Bad Things Come in Twos
by bullethead
Summary: 50,000 years ago, the Protheans & Reapers annihilated each other. Now, in 323 Post Disaster, a group of alien explorers cross paths with Tekkadan at Saisei. Now Tekkadan and Teiwaz are playing a high stakes game, with the fate of humanity in the balance. AU for Mass Effect, AU for IBO after Episode 9.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Mass Effect belongs to EA and Bioware. Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Bandai and Sunrise.

Chapter 1

Out in the darkness of space, near Jupiter, lay Saisei.

Saisei was a technically a massive spaceship, but functionally, it was space colony, complete with agricultural and industrial sectors to give it self-sufficiency. It only had the population of a small city, but it held power beyond comparison.

For 300 years after a war that permanently disfigured the Moon, Saisei was home to a powerful organization known as Teiwaz. Everything from heavy industry, manufacturing, construction, wholesale and retail trade, financing, medical care, education, and agriculture to private military work and transportation could be handled by one of its many affiliates. Teiwaz's power was such that Gjallarhorn, a military aristocracy feared by the economic blocs of Earth, dared not interfere with their dealings.

McMurdo Barriston, the current leader of Teiwaz, sat in his office, thinking of Mars.

Not long ago, a group of child soldiers from a group called Tekkadan had come to him for help. Their goal was to get Kudelia Aina Bernstein, the figurehead of Mars growing independence movement, to Earth, so she could speak out in favor of deregulating Martian half-metals. Teiwaz was _very_ interested in obtaining the rights to those valuable resources, so Barriston allowed Tekkadan to join Teiwaz through a Sakazaki Blood Oath with the head of his transportation department, Naze Turbine.

Teiwaz was also an organization descended from the Mafia and Yakuza of Earth, and such rituals reflected its heritage.

In a few days, Tekkadan was going to head to Earth via one of its secret routes by Naze's Turbines, his harem-slash-crew. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but Tekkadan's Gundam, one of the surviving 72 legendary mobile suits that fought in the Calamity War centuries ago, was undergoing massive repairs in one of Saisei's hangers. Gundam Barbatos had suffered centuries of neglect, mostly serving as a power plant for Tekkadan's predecessor, Chryse Guard Security, until recently, when it was pressed into service.

Barriston had been impressed by Tekkadan's gumption, especially that of its leader, Orga Itsuka, and Barbatos' pilot, Mikazuki Augus, and decided to let his best men repair the Gundam and hopefully restore it to its former glory. Of course, given the long odds on the successful completion of their mission, Tekkadan needed all the help they could get.

All these ruminations came to an end when one of his assistants came into the room, holding a computer tablet. "Excuse me, sir, but there's a… situation that needs your attention."

Barriston smiled, amused by the man's obvious anxiety. "And what would that be?"

"There's a ship approaching Jupiter…" The man wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "From _outside_ the solar system."

The boss of Teiwaz couldn't breathe for a moment. His brain struggled to process what his assistant said. The implications were simply too massive. Because if this was true… history would be made here, on Saisei. First contact with aliens would occur on his watch.

"Have you… confirmed this information?"

"We… we had four science teams look at the data," the man confirmed. Due to Saisei's remote location, there were dozens of science teams aboard, researching this or that. Most of them received a healthy amount of funding from Teiwaz, in exchange for any potentially useful information. And all of them knew how to keep their mouths shut when Teiwaz didn't want information to spread. "They all independently came to the same conclusion. This is likely to be an alien ship."

 _Aliens._ Humanity had wondered if it was alone in the universe for centuries, and now the answer was being dropped in his lap. And he would do everything in his power to make sure this didn't end in disaster… or at least wouldn't doom humanity if he failed.

"Well now," Barriston said, maintaining his poker face, "did our scientist friends have any advice on handling this situation?"

"They did mention an old set of contingencies for alien contact," the assistant admitted, stepping forward to hand the tablet to Barriston. "They're ready to go, once they have your approval, of course."

Barriston skimmed the information on the tablets, nodding as he went. "Have the scientists send the message, and have them inform me the minute they reply. Oh, and get me Naze Turbine and Orga Itsuka. Tell them… I have an urgent job for them to handle."

The head of Teiwaz leaned back in his chair as his assistant hurried out of the room. If all went well, this would be simple, clean business. If not… well, he would see what Tekkadan was made out of, and hopefully have enough alien technology to profit from.

* * *

The AIV _Thrill Seeker_ sat in the darkness, just above the plane of the ecliptic of a solar system that no one from Citadel had ever seen. The bird-like, 200 meter long destroyer used to belong to the Turian Hierarchy, until it was decommissioned and sold as surplus. Now it was a freelance explorer, looking for habitable planets and valuable wreckage from the Prothean-Reaper war.

For a year and a half, 150 Asari, Salarians, and Batarians had traveled thousands of light years, starting from the Annos Basin cluster, and now they were here, ready to change course and head to the Aethon Cluster. They were tired, bored, and more than willing to leave the system after a cursory glance. But then they picked up the radio transmissions, and knew they couldn't turn back just yet.

Captain Milena Dantius tapped her foot as she stood on the galaxy map platform. She hated Turian bridge design and its habit of placing the captain above the action, but she'd learned to live with it. This had been the best ship for her money, after all. But if she'd had the money, she would've rebuilt the entire bridge so she could sit in a chair when things took forever.

Of course, when you were waiting on something that could be _very_ profitable, sore feet were a minor inconvenience.

Comm Specialist Javok Wiks, one of the few Salarians on the bridge, spoke up. "Ma'am, we're receiving what appears to be a first contact package! The origin seems to be near the innermost gas giant."

Dantius smiled. "Interesting. I want all our sensors, passive and active, aimed on that spot. And get that translated as fast as possible!"

It took 20 minutes, but she got results on both counts.

"We've got a preliminary translation, Captain," Wiks reported. "Transferring to your console now."

"I've got a read on the transmission source," some random Asari maiden said. Dantius didn't care what her name was – it would come to her in time, but even if it didn't, no one cared all that much about maidens outside of the bedroom. "Also transferring to your console, ma'am."

Two holographic screens materialized in front of Dantius. One showed a rough translation of the message – typical stuff, mostly saying that this species called "humans" were greeting them in peace. The other showed a space habitat that was a few kilometers long – not Citadel big, but a respectable size. These people might not have FTL capabilities, but they could certainly build megastructures.

 _Things might get even more profitable,_ Dantius thought.

"Send them our first contact message," she ordered, "then get me the ship's intercom."

* * *

Down in the bowels of the ship, a Salarian and Batarian were sitting in the mess hall when Captain Dantius' voice interrupted their meal. This was no real tragedy, for the food was bland and barely worth eating. In fact, the bigger irritation was that everyone stopped right where they were, so the Batarian couldn't get a refill of his drink.

 _"Crew of the_ Thrill Seeker _, we have just made contact with a previously undiscovered species,"_ the captain announced. _"We're currently sorting out translation issues, but we hope to get permission to visit one of their space habitats soon."_

The Salarian and Batarian shared a look, but said nothing as the rising tide of excited murmuring swept through the mess hall.

 _"Hopefully, we'll be able to get a few weeks of shore leave and maybe some good souvenirs before we have to head back to Citadel space,"_ Dantius continued. _"I know this trip has been tedious and dull, with few opportunities to stretch our legs, but we've gotten ourselves a place in the history books. Work hard a few more days, and I'll make sure you get the rest you deserve."_

The duo picked up their trays, dropped the food in the garbage receptacle, put the trays in their slot, and walked out. They eventually wound their way through the ship's tight corridors and stepped inside the life support control room. As soon as the door closed, the Batarian turned on his heel.

"Damn it all! Why couldn't we have found a nice, uninhabited system?"

The Salarian looked unimpressed by the outburst. "There's no need to panic. We have a plan, after all."

"Yeah, for all the good that does us," the Batarian replied. "I'm not sure everyone else is going to be thrilled about getting stranded in a backwater like this."

"We've been over this," the Salarian muttered, calling up a document on his omni-tool. "Better to be stranded here and presumed lost by the rest of the galaxy than allow Dantius to get her way."

"You think I don't know that?!" The Batarian pressed his face into his hands for a few seconds, then looked at the Salarian again. "I've seen what would happen to these people if Dantius sells them out – hell, I _fought against it_ for decades! I'd still be fighting if… if I could take it anymore."

The Salarian at least had the grace to look chagrined. "Sometimes I forget how strong those memories are for you. But this plan _cannot_ work without you. We both know that. And remember, the crew resents Dantius and her clique of matrons more than you would think. They'll fall into line once we show them our evidence."

The Batarian sighed and nodded. "I guess you want me to take the Quantum Entanglement Communicator offline right away?"

"Yes," the Salarian confirmed. "But more importantly, I need to get access to the translation matrix for these aliens' language. Then I can get a message to them when I get aboard their habitat."

" _When?_ You're awfully confident you'll get aboard soon enough to make a difference."

The Salarian smirked. "She knows I'm ex-STG. _Of course_ she'll take me along, along with the science officer. The two of us working together should be able to identify and neutralize any potentially hazardous microorganisms that could endanger either side."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." The Batarian rubbed his chin. "I just hope they believe your message."

"They won't have any choice," the Salarian said, turning towards the door. "Not if they want to ensure their species' survival."

"You're a cold one, Doc," the Batarian called out as his companion walked out the door. When the door closed, he muttered, "I just hope this won't wind up getting us all killed."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Every time Orga Itsuka approached McMurdo Barriston's house, he was stuck by how _small_ it was.

Of course, Saisei wasn't a planet or even a full-fledged colony, but he didn't expect such an important person to live on a tiny artificial island, in a modest two story house with a room in the attic. He suspected Kudelia's house was bigger and more luxurious, although that was because he'd heard guys in CGS's First and Second Groups constantly bitch about fat cats like her father. But still, in a way, he could appreciate Barriston's taste in homes. It was nice and showed off his wealth, but not in a way that would make his people resent him.

Maybe that was a lesson worth learning.

 _Of course,_ Orga thought as he carefully stepped onto the dock in front of the house, _if I ever get rich enough to own a nice house, I'm_ not _putting it in the middle of a lake._

Naze Turbine walked up to him, wearing a dark suit with a blue shirt, a stark contrast with Orga's red scarf and olive drab coat with orange cuffs and lining. "Relax Brother. It's just a job for the Old Man."

"That's easy for you to say," Orga replied as they passed through the gate. "You've been part of the family longer."

Naze laughed. "Believe me, Orga, everyone has to start _somewhere_. The Old Man threw me in the deep end too when I was starting out in Teiwaz."

"I guess," Orga replied, not entirely sure what Naze meant by that. One of the major disadvantages of being an orphan _and_ a child soldier was that his education was pretty nonexistent. He was one of the luckier ones – he knew how to read and write, but only because CGS's old boss knew _someone_ had to deal with the paperwork for Third Group, where all the kids were.

Naze looked at him curiously, then shrugged. "Anyway, don't worry about it. It's not like he'll ask us to attack Gjallarhorn headquarters."

When McMurdo Barriston laid out the facts, Orga _almost_ wished they were doing something that simple. Naze standing there with his mouth open didn't help either. He knew he had a lot to learn, and seeing his mentor was equally out of his depth reminded him of his own inadequacies.

"Are you... sure about this, Old Man?" Naze's trademark easy, confident smile dropped as confusion and a bit of anxiety crossed his face. "Surely there's someone who could do the job better."

Barriston smiled. "You might be right, but you've been on a hot streak lately, Naze. Plus you have a way with the ladies, and it seems like the captain of that ship might be one."

Naze's face lit up and Orga had to fight his urge to roll his eyes. The man already had dozens of women as wives, and had kids with who knew how many of them. The last thing he needed was _more_ women in his life.

"As for Tekkadan," Barriston said, shifting his gaze to Orga, "you'll be there as backup… and if things don't go according to plan, perhaps your creative strategizing could win the day."

"Well, I don't know about that," Orga replied, "but we'll do our best."

"That's all I can expect from _any_ of us," Barriston admitted. "We're making history here, in a literal sense; no one has ever done this before. Even young Ms. Bernstein has historical examples to give her some guidance, while all we have are stories about how people _might_ handle this."

"So, no pressure," Naze said with a sidelong glance at Orga. "Don't worry Old Man, we'll make you proud."

Barriston chuckled darkly as he pulled a cigar from a desk drawer and lit it. "I'll settle for you avoiding the annihilation of mankind. Anything more than that is pure profit."

He took a long drag and blew out the smoke. "And by the way, tell your people to keep this secret until further notice. We'll be doing our best to keep the information under wraps on Saisei, at least long enough to keep Gjallarhorn from poking their noses where they aren't wanted."

* * *

Orga stood below the stripped frame of Barbatos and watched the team of engineers replace this and that. As far as he could tell, they were done with the Gundam's chest, including tuning the two Ahab reactors that powered the mobile suit. Now they were focusing on the limbs and head, messing with various intricate parts that Orga couldn't recognize. A part of him hoped his mechanics, a bunch of kids under the guidance of Nadi Yukinojo Kassapa, could keep Barbatos going once they reached Earth. His gut told him they'd be running into Gjallarhorn a lot more the closer they got to their destination.

He felt a slight breeze and looked to his left, spotting Mikazuki making his way down the gantry. Orga smiled a bit; Mikazuki was popping Mars Palms into his mouth, like always. No one ever knew why he liked the things, since they tasted horrible, but that was Mikazuki in a nutshell. He was _different_ , and an all-around good guy… once you got to know him.

But Orga knew something else. Others might mistake Mikazuki's lack of expression as a sign of boredom or that he didn't care, but it wasn't that at all. Mikazuki was waiting, waiting for _him_ to give Tekkadan new orders, to set them down whatever path he felt best.

Orga had felt the weight of those expectations ever since the day Mikazuki killed a man to save his life.

"Hey Mika." His words carried none of the burdens he felt. "I'm glad I caught you."

Mikazuki frowned slightly as he came to a stop in the low gravity area. "What's going on, Orga?"

"Nothing serious," Orga said smoothly, turning back to face Barbatos. "Teiwaz's Old Man has a quick job for us to do. We'll be meeting another ship for a few days or so, then we'll come back, pick you and Barbatos up, and head on to Earth."

"You don't expect any trouble."

"Not really," Orga admitted, then he shrugged. "Besides, even if you and Barbatos were there, I don't think it'd do much good."

"It's that bad?" Mikazuki asked, looking up at Barbatos.

"It's not that… it's just that we're doing something no one's ever done before."

Mikazuki looked back at Orga. "We beat Gjallarhorn and no one ever did that before."

Orga blinked then chuckled. "Yeah, that's true. But we're talking about something way bigger, something that'll get Tekkadan's name in history books for sure."

"Really?"

"Really."

Mikazuki thought about it for a moment. "Then you'll find a way to do it."

That vote of confidence delivered, Mikazuki got onto the handrail and sprung off it, drifting up towards Barbatos.

* * *

"Captain, the human vessels have arrived at the rendezvous coordinates."

The words cut through the haze of Milena Dantius' bitter memories of betrayal at the hands of her sisters. First Nassana, who tried to kill Dahlia, but botched it, then Dahlia, who took over when some assassin killed Nassana. Both sisters had done their best to marginalize their younger siblings, which was why Milena was out in the unexplored frontier, instead of the lap of luxury on Illium or Thessia. At least out here, she could make the most of the pittance Dahlia tossed her way every month without worrying about her sister's paranoia.

She took a calming breath and shutdown the desk console in her quarters, then walked out of her small, but well decorated quarters. She moved swiftly through the ship's confines, arriving on the bridge within five minutes. She raised an eyebrow at her Salarian CMO, Dr. Jal Vass, talking to Wiks.

"What brings you up to the bridge, Doctor?"

The Salarian doctor turned around and smiled. "Ah, Captain, I've been keeping up with the translation matrix updates to see if any include medical data. The latest update has been most interesting."

Milena grunted in understanding. "Any advice on making sure this doesn't result in another Raloi debacle?"

Over 200 years earlier, the formal ceremony welcoming the Raloi into the galactic community caused an outbreak of an alien flu virus on their homeworld, Turvess. That meant that for a decade and a half, the Raloi spent every moment not on their planet in environmental suits, out of fear of even worse sicknesses. The mishap resulted in much debating and theorizing by the academics and medical companies of the galaxy, all in search of a solution to the problem.

"All I can suggest is parking one of the shuttles outside the airlock, going through the airlock and decontamination sweep, _then_ enter the shuttle. Once we board their ship, I'll be taking samples of bacteria in the air, food, and liquids, as well as any surfaces, and scan the humans to see what diseases they might be susceptible to. Hopefully we'll be able to identify any potential threat microorganisms to either side and culture vaccines for them." Vass paused. "Unfortunately, until then, we will have to keep wearing our environmental suits. Hopefully it should only be a minor inconvenience for a few days."

"Very good, Doctor." Milena turned to her other officers. "What have we learned about those ships?"

The science officer, an Asari matron by the name of Hastia Iallis, pulled up several holographic displays. "We've picked up numerous unusual readings. First, both ships are generating some sort of field that interferes with radio based signals. Second, we're reading gravity fields in both ships, but ones _not_ consistent with eezo generated artificial gravity. Third, for ships in the 300 to 400 meter range, their heat generation is surprisingly low."

"Now _that_ is interesting," Milena muttered. "These people might not have FTL, but they certainly have technology that's worth having."

Technology that she had to have, at least in blueprint form, before she left the humans to their fate.

Before she could ruminate further, Wiks spoke up. "Captain, we're receiving a signal from one of the human vessels."

"Audio only?"

"Yes ma'am." Wiks shifted uncomfortably. "We're still working on deciphering their visual codecs."

"Audio is fine for now," Milena replied, walking up the ramp to her platform. "Let's hear what they have to say."

 _"_ Thrill Seeker _, this is Naze Turbine, captain of the_ Hammerhead _, representing Teiwaz. We welcome you to our humble solar system."_

Milena raised an eyebrow as she activated her displays. The _Hammerhead_ was the ship that, appropriately enough, resembled a hammer. But she couldn't tell if the human, who the computer thought was male, was being sincere.

 _Oh well,_ she thought, _better to play polite space explorer for now. I can probably outsmart them any day of the week anyway._

"It's a pleasure to talk to you, Captain Turbine." It took all her self-control to _not_ snicker at his name. "I'm Captain Milena Dantius."

 _"So I've been told,"_ Naze replied. _"How do you want to do this? And please, call me Naze."_

"Based on the advice of my science officer and chief medical officer, only a small team from my ship will come aboard your ship, to minimize the chances of spreading diseases to any of our crews," she explained. "That team will be me, my CMO, and two guards. Is that alright, Naze?"

The human chuckled. _"That's perfectly fine by me."_

"It'll take about," Milena checked one of the displays in front of her, "an hour before we're ready to come over. I hope that's not too much trouble."

 _"Not at all,"_ Naze replied, _"although I suppose we'll have to skip the dinner celebrating this historic occasion."_

Milena rolled her eyes, but her voice friendly and flirtatious. "Don't worry, we'll be having that dinner eventually. Just not today."

 _"That's a shame,"_ the human added, _"but I can wait. I'll you in an hour then._ Hammerhead _out."_

Milena turned to Rija Irissa, her XO and yet another Asari matron. "I want the shuttle and hardsuits prepped in 45 minutes."

Irissa, one of the more laconic Asari, nodded. "It will be done."

"Good." Milena walked down the ramp to the galaxy map and headed off the bridge. "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Expect this 3 part structure to the chapters, except maybe battle scenes, since I'm not sure how I'll handle IBO's more brutal style until I actually do it.

Just to confirm this, Dr. Vass is the same Salarian as the one in the end of Chapter 1.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Mass Effect belongs to EA and Bioware. Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Bandai and Sunrise.

* * *

Chapter 3

The mess hall on the _Isaribi_ was like the rest of the ship: grungy and well worn. But the bright lighting, faded gold bulkheads, and long tables with benches made it Tekkadan's social hub on the long journey to Earth. Everyone came here at least once a day, every day.

The mess hall was also Atra Mixta's domain, and yet another step up in life for her. For orphan who went from cleaning in a brothel to being a delivery girl for a small bakery, it was a massive jump in work and responsibilities, but she rose to the challenge. On a trip like this, good food led to good morale, and Atra prided herself on the quality of her cooking.

Of course, it helped that she got to see Mikazuki every day, even if Kudelia was competing with her for his attention. But Amida Arca, one of Naze Turbine's wives, mentioned that she could _share_ Mikazuki with Kudelia, and the more she rolled the idea around in her head, the more she liked it. She and Kudelia got along fine, and she was pretty sure Mikazuki wouldn't mind, although sometimes it was hard to figure out what he was thinking.

But right now, Atra was busy managing a small army of young Tekkadan boys and getting them to clean the mess hall. It was no small feat, since she was pretty much the same size and build as most of them, plus there was an unholy amount of grime on most of the bulkheads. If she had to guess, CGS hadn't really cleaned the mess hall (or any part of the ship, really) after they bought it. But she had spunk and Kudelia on her side, so things weren't as bad as they could be.

She heard the mess hall doors slide open as she scrubbed a particularly stubborn stain on the oven, catching the end of a conversation.

"… So I bet Eugene that the aliens were space babes—"

"That's only in the movies—"

"That's what _he_ said – anyway, if I'm right, he has to buy me these chocolates with alcohol in them, and if _he's_ right, I have to them for him."

"That's a _thing_?" A redhead by the name of Dante Mogro said as he turned the corner to the serving area. "Oh hey there, Atra. What's going on?"

Atra turned and smiled, wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of one hand. "Oh, just cleaning up in case the aliens come over here."

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Atra," Dante's companion, Shino Norba, said. "I hear all the big stuff is going to go down on the _Hammerhead_."

"Oh." Atra's face fell a bit, but her cheer quickly returned. "Anyway, why are _you_ here?"

"We're heading over there now," Dante explained, "and we decided to stock up on rations on the way."

"No problem!" Atra turned and opened a cabinet full of rectangular bars in sliver wrappers. She grabbed as many as she could, then dumped them on the counter. As Shino and Dante began stuffing them into their pockets, she asked, "What did Eugene think the aliens would look like?"

"Huh? You heard us talking about that?" Shino paused, trying to dredge up the memory. "Something about big black eyes, no noses, and long faces. I didn't really pay attention."

"So what happens if neither of you are right? Or you're both right?"

"Uh…" Shino stammered as Dante tried not to laugh.

"I don't think either of them thought about it," Dante replied, before slapping Shino on the shoulder. "But we gotta get going, or else the boss'll get pissed."

The two Tekkadan troops walked with a wave of their hands, leaving Atra with her press gang of young boys. One of them, a mouthy little punk who'd made the mistake of saying girls were weak when a Turbines pilot was in the mess hall, spoke up. "If the aliens aren't coming here, we can stop working, right?"

"Absolutely not! We're going to make this mess hall clean, no matter what!"

* * *

Dr. Vass stared out into void, then looked up at the shuttle in front of him.

 _It has been too long since I've done EVA work,_ he thought. In fact, he couldn't recall doing much of the stuff since basic STG training. The few times he'd done it were all covert insertions into pirate facilities and corporate facilities after disastrous experiments with old Reaper technology. High risk, high reward operations where his knowledge of cybernetics and gene modding were key to deciphering the situation.

Would that prove the case here? Only time would tell.

"Alright people, it's time to go." Captain Dantius jumped across the gap between the airlock and shuttle effortlessly, and Vass followed her example. The interior of the shuttle, a common dropship equipped with forward mounted cannons, was sparse – a few bench seats and rails on the ceiling. He moved towards the other side of the shuttle, taking care to avoid bumping his sample case against anything, before the two guards, one Asari and one Salarian, joined them.

As the hatch slid shut, Dantius's voice came over the comm system again. "We're all aboard. Let's go."

"Roger that," an Asari replied. Vass's mind immediately recognized it as Rala T'Pani – she'd come in for a physical about a month earlier.

He didn't bother looking out the small windows in the side and top of the dropship as they approached the _Hammerhead_. There would be plenty of time to look at it later, after all. Instead, he mentally prepared himself for the experience of meeting a brand new species of aliens. They would likely follow the morphology of most sapients in the galaxy – two arms, two legs, head attached to the torso, at least two eyes…

Then, as the shuttle rose into the _Hammerhead_ 's hangar bay, something incredible caught his eye. A gigantic construct shaped like a sapient being loomed over the shuttle, and despite its pink exterior, it seemed to be a war machine of some sort. It struck him as terribly impractical, but the quiet mutterings of his Asari companions showed there was at least _some_ psychological warfare advantages to that form.

The shuttle came to a stop near a strip of deck plating that ran along the side of the hangar, where four humans – at least, that was the logical assumption was – stood. As the hatch slid open, he noticed how similar they seemed to Asari, and the diversity of their appearances. While three of them wore the same clothes, drab affairs that seemed to indicate military or mercenary roles, all four had radically different clumps of hair on their heads. Red, brown, grey, black – none of them were the same, and the scientist in him wondered if this was natural or artificially influenced.

Of course, all four of them had their mouths open in amazement, but to their credit, they quickly recovered their composure.

The one with the black hair, wearing a white suit, took off his hat and spread his arms wide. "Welcome aboard the _Hammerhead_ , Captain Dantius! It's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh."

It took a second or two for the translation to filter through their suit comm systems.

"The pleasure is all mine, Naze. I had no idea your species was so _handsome_." Vass rolled his eyes while Dantius waited for the humans to hear the translation come out of her suit speaker, and was amused to see the grey haired one roll _his_ eyes, while the other two, guards in all likelihood, tried not to laugh.

"And I had no idea _your_ species was so beautiful," Naze replied. Thankfully, before the conversation could turn even more disgustingly complimentary, the Teiwaz representative introduced his grey haired companion. "This is Orga Itsuka, the captain of the _Isaribi_ – the ship escorting the _Hammerhead_ – and leader of Tekkadan, a private military company."

Vass filed that away as Dantius introduced him and the group began moving through the ship. The corridors were fairly utilitarian and devoid of crew, although a few could be seen _far_ away. Aside from having hair, their silhouettes certainly resembled Asari – in all likelihood, the females of the human species. The scientist in him found that _very_ curious, perhaps enough lend credence to some crackpot theories back home about the extent of Prothean genetic meddling in developing species.

They arrived in a well furnished compartment, with green bulkheads and gold highlights, wood paneling, red curtains in the corner, various paintings, red carpet with a gold pattern, and several couches and a table in a sunken area in the middle. Vass supposed that this was considered luxurious for this species' ships, but he'd seen better in Citadel space. Of course, Dantius poured on the compliments, but that was part of her act.

For his part, he just walked around scanning and taking samples, always listening in the conversation, but never adding to it. The mention of a cataclysmic war roughly 300 of their years ago was interesting, especially in the context of galactic history; right around that time was when the arms race between the Council races and Terminus nations began accelerating. Some of that had been fueled by Leviathan meddling and reactions to that meddling, but much of that had been due to the perception that the Council was weak for not cracking down on the Batarians and their slaving ways.

When Dantius finished explaining basic facts about Citadel space, like how the Asari and Salarians met, Vass made his move. He cleared his throat, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. "Ah, yes, excuse me. I've gotten all I can get out of this room. Would it be possible for me to visit some non-critical areas to obtain more samples?"

He waited for them to hear the translation and studied their reactions. Orga and Naze shared a significant look, then Orga looked at the red-haired mercenary.

"Dante, show the doctor around."

"You want me to call ahead and let people know what we're doing, Boss?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Naze cut in. Vass noted that; while it was true Naze was the captain of this ship, the fact that Orga didn't protest indicated some sort of hierarchical relationship… or at least a possible student-mentor one. _Learning more about that could be very beneficial down the line._

Vass moved towards the door as Dante contacted someone or other, who would pass the word on to the rest of the crew. Then the human joined him, and the two of them proceeded into the still empty corridor. An awkward silence lingered between the Salarian doctor and his human escort.

"So… where do you want to go, Doc?" Dante finally asked.

"Whatever the communal food preparation space is," Vass said, moving his hand in a vague, offhand way. "Then the waste processing area. That's where the most interesting bacteria are."

The human groaned, and Vass nodded sympathetically. Waste processing facilities often smelled vile, and he was glad his suit would protect him from the odor.

"But first," he added, "I have a favor to ask of you."

"A favor?" Dante repeated slowly.

"Yes, one that should be discussed in a more… private venue." Vass looked around. "Is there a storage room or the like nearby?"

Dante raised an eyebrow, but led the Salarian to a room full of spacesuits. Vass opened his case and pulled out a small computer tablet, offering it to the human. "Take this message to your leaders, but make sure you keep it hidden until _after_ we have left. My captain _cannot_ know that I've given it to you."

"What does it say?" The naked fear and trepidation on Dante's face almost made Vass pity him. But the human took the tablet and slid it into one his inner jacket pockets, which Vass mentally commended him for. If nothing else, his sense of duty outweighed the barrage of emotions he had to be feeling.

"It has to do with the future of your species, and leave it at that." Vass closed his case and headed to the door. "And remember, if Dantius finds out, we will _all_ regret it."

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the _Thrill Seeker_ , the Batarian known as Vorhess stared at a readout and sighed. As chief engineer, he was responsible for keeping all the systems on the old Turian destroyer functional, with what amounted to the contents of his ass. Thankfully, Turians built things tough, so the work was pretty minimal… aside from the fusion reactors.

The _Thrill Seeker_ had three fusion reactors powering her systems. The two secondary reactors worked just fine, since they were standard models. But the primary reactor, responsible for most of the power for the mass effect core and particle beam cannon, had been a proprietary Turian military design. So when the ship had been decommissioned and transferred to a surplus depot, someone figured it was cheaper and easier to completely remove a power regulator than tear open the ship to remove the reactor. The net result was a fusion reactor that functioned perfectly when high demands were placed on it, but couldn't handle idling at low power, because no one knew precisely how the original regulator functioned. Power spikes and surges were frequent, as were equipment checks and resets.

As the latest surge passed through the ship, the four people in the tiny rectangular control room looked over the latest data. Instinctively, Vorhess activated the comm link to the bridge. "Vorhess to XO, we've had another surge. Status report incoming."

"Acknowledged," Irissa replied. If Vorhess didn't know what he did, he wouldn't have believed she'd coldblooded enough to sell out a sapient species to the Batarian Hegemony. Given her demeanor, he was amazed she even cared enough about the big pay out to join in.

"Chief, that last one hit the primary trunk." That was his assistant, Treia T'Pani; her sister was a shuttle pilot.

"XO, we've got blown breakers on the main trunk," Vorhess reported, looking at his display for specifics. "The main cannon, mass effect core, and… the Quantum Entanglement Communicator are down."

"Get them fixed, Chief. XO out."

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, silently relieved that this opportunity was dropped in his lap. He had everything ready to go, and as long as no one followed him in and got in the way. Treia was the most likely to be a problem, but he had a job for her.

"Treia, shutdown all power to the main truck. I don't want to get cooked by surge while I'm in there." He sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Stay here and keep an eye on the surges. I might have to fix some other stuff on the way out."

"Are you sure Chief? I could handle things in there or help out." Treia was pretty damn earnest, but she signed on to this voyage so she could be an engineering apprentice. Getting left out must've stung or seemed like a snub.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He put on his best fatherly smile. "I don't want the XO cracking down on you if things take too long."

With that, he headed over to a hatch leading into the guts of the ship. After checking that the main trunk wasn't receiving power, he popped it open and climbed down into the maintenance tube. A few minutes of crawling on his knees brought him to the drive core breaker, which he scanned, just to make sure the thing wasn't damaged. Satisfied, he reset the breaker, crawled back the way he came, and headed forward to handle the QEC breaker.

Vorhess knew it was tedious work, but even this was pleasant, compared to his old line of work. When he'd been part of the Free Batarian Republic military, fighting to liberate all Batarians from the Hegemony's corrupt and depraved way of life, he'd been a frontline combat engineer. After dozens of boarding actions where he'd been among the first ones aboard pirate ships and the like to defuse bombs and self-destruct charges, he couldn't deal with seeing the kind of suffering the slavers inflicted on people. So he retired and worked on ships instead, where he didn't have to see that kind of thing anymore.

Of course, Milena Dantius had to ruin all that. He'd heard the rumors that one of her sisters was involved in slaving, although which sister depended on who was telling the story. His fear of enabling slavers and not being able to do anything about it had led him to ally with Dr. Vass, who'd heard the same rumors and was pretty anti-slaver. Vorhess didn't know precisely why, but the doctor alluded to his work with the STG, and the engineer figured he didn't want to know much more.

He reached the access hatch outside the QEC compartment and climbed through it, crawling towards the main trunk. Here he found a control panel alongside the breaker box; after resetting the breaker, he plugged in a battery and brought the panel to life. After tapping in a few commands, he activated his omni-tool and transferred a file to the panel. A quick few tests later and he was on his way out of the tube.

One of the advantages to the huge gap between when he and Vass found out about Dantius' plan and now was the sheer amount of time they had to refine the plan. Sabotaging the QEC was so easy because Vorhess had thought the whole thing through, from how to do it to how someone might try to diagnose and fix it. And he discovered that by messing with the diagnostic self-test a bit, he could make the QEC appear to be fully functional, while rendering it incapable of making a connection. And best of all, it would appear to be an effect of the power surge.

In fact, everything was going so smoothly, he was starting to feel a bit jittery. All he could do now was hope Vass did his part, and pray that the humans played along…


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Bandai/Sunrise own Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans. EA and Bioware own Mass Effect.

* * *

Chapter 4

Milena Dantius sighed in relief as she stepped out of the airlock and pulled her helmet off. Spending hours in a hard suit wasn't too big a burden, but the helmets always made her crest itch after 15 or so minutes. And after a few hours, her crest felt like a buffet for a swarm of nasty bloodsucking insects.

After scratching her crest for a few seconds, she allowed her crew to start asking questions.

Of course, most of them were "What did they look like?", "How weird were they?", and "When's shore leave?" She motioned for the crew to calm down, then activated her omni-tool. "Alright people, here's what they look like."

She uploaded her suit camera's imagery to the _Thrill Seeker_ 's media server, which pushed the image to the crews' omni-tools. The Asari crew members lost their minds; for millennia, Asari had speculated on what male Asari would look like, and humans seemed to fit the bill, even with the obvious cosmetic differences. Once again, Dantius had to physically gesture for calm.

"These humans are pretty normal people, at least as far as I can tell. There'll be no shore leave until Dr. Vass," Dantius tilted her head towards him, "does his work analyzing human bacteria and working on vaccines. I'll be in my cabin, updating the log."

As she pulled away from the crowd of gossiping crewmembers, Dantius sent a word for her main officers to meet her in her quarters. Unlike some other captains, she relied on a close circle of confidants to act as a sounding board. Most of the time, it wasn't necessary, but in a situation like this, their questions could jog her memory of minor details that didn't seem immediately important.

She stripped off her hard suit as soon as she entered her quarters, putting the pieces in a dedicated locker with a DNA lock. As soon as Dantius flopped into her desk chair, her XO walked in, swiftly followed by the science officer and Natrene Calis, the weapons and security officer. All three of them had been members of merc bands alongside Dantius, and they all shared certain ruthless attributes. Calis was the most overt about that, but then, it was hard to ignore the scar going from above her right eye brow down to her left cheek.

Dantius activated her desk's computer terminal and began typing, then looked at her subordinates. "Any thoughts on these humans?"

"It's almost a shame we're selling them out to the Batarians," Calis said, smirking like a mad woman. "Now there's no excuse for fucking purebloods to _not_ mate with aliens, like sane people."

Iallis rolled her eyes. "Setting that aside, was there anything unusual about their technology?"

"Well, they had these gigantic machines shaped like a person… I think Naze told me they were called mobile suits." Dantius paused, peering into the depths of her memories. "You said they didn't have mass effect technology, right? But they still had artificial gravity…"

"Really? That's unusual," the science officer remarked. "But consistent with our earlier readings."

"We should get our hands on that technology," Irissa added, mincing few words, as usual. "I bet we could rake in the money by patenting the tech and licensing it out."

Dantius' fingers tapped the keyboard, inputting the new information. "This 'Teiwaz' of theirs might be able to get us what we want if we trade something for it. It has to be something minor, but seems like a major improvement to them…"

"Everything with eezo's out," Calis said. "As far as we know, they don't have it, and even if they did, there's no sense in making the Batarians lives harder when they come to conquer these people."

"Why not omni-tools?" Iallis offered. "They might be special enough to be a viable product for Teiwaz, but even if they get the tech, there's no way they could perfect it before the Batarians come to conquer them. Besides, we've got a few low-end models just sitting in storage, so we could give them those and they'd be none the wiser."

"I _did_ notice them being surprised by Vass's omni-tool," Dantius admitted. "I don't think they have anything like it."

"Fine, great, let's get it done," the weapon's officer muttered. "What we need to know is their military capabilities. If the Batarians get a harder fight than they expect, they might come and kick _our_ asses for not letting them know."

"I hate to say it, but Natrene has a point." Irissa grimaced. "The Hegemony is in tough shape. They can spare the ships for a small conquest fleet, but if they take too many loses, the Free Batarian Republic could start making major headway, even without additional Council support."

Just about everyone knew the Council was propping up the FBR back in Citadel Space as part of their crackdown on Batarian slaving. A constant flow of resource aid and military surplus was the only thing keeping the splinter nation, roughly a fifth of the Hegemony's old territory, from collapsing. But the situation changed shortly before the _Thrill Seeker_ left C-Space. The FBR was starting to go on the offensive, testing the Hegemony's defenses for any weaknesses, even seizing new territories. And as a result, their client had to scale down the force that would seize their new source of slaves, or else their stretched out fleet couldn't protect the territory they still had.

" _Unfortunately,_ " Dantius interjected, "I can't ask for that kind of information… yet. The best I can do is look into this PMC Teiwaz sent – 'Tekkaden,' something like that. I bet their equipment isn't too far off from the military norm?"

"What does it matter?" Iallis asked, leaning back and resting her hands just below the back of her head. "If they don't have mass effect technology, the Batarians can easily beat them."

Calis looked at her in disgust. "Oh sure, just because they don't have mass effect technology doesn't mean they have some sort of exotic weaponry we haven't thought of… maybe something involving the ability to _create gravity fields_."

There was a moment of silence as the implications of that sank in.

"Goddess, you're right," Dantius admitted. "We have no idea what they could with this technology."

"Which means _you_ are probably going to have to pump these Teiwaz people for information," Calis continued. " _And_ we have to figure out a way to do it without making them suspicious."

Dantius looked at each of her subordinates. "So… any ideas?"

* * *

McMurdo Barriston leaned back into his chair as the small screen on his desk showed the message Naze and Orga received.

 _"Hello. I am Dr. Vass, of the_ Thrill Seeker. _This is a warning to those leading Teiwaz: Milena Dantius is_ not _to be trusted. She is an agent of the Batarians, a slave-owning species from our region of space. Dantius intends to alert them to your existence and technological capabilities, in order to prepare a fleet that will conquer your solar system._

 _"However, I have set into motion a plan to prevent this disaster. But in order to fully enact it, I_ must _have two things: your cooperation, and a guarantee of asylum and protection for myself and the crew of the_ Thrill Seeker.

 _"In order to make this offer more lucrative, I offer the rights to many medical technologies and techniques that may be beneficial to your people. I hope to hear your response to this message soon._

 _"I've also included a brief overview of what_ our _technological capabilities are, in case you do not believe my assistance is warranted. I urge you to—"_

Naze pulled the tablet away from the camera and stopped the recording.

Barriston stroked his chin with his finger, then looked at Naze and Orga. "I take it you've seen everything he's provided?"

 _"We have,"_ Naze confirmed, his face grim. _"And the picture isn't pretty. The_ Thrill Seeker _could probably beat the entire Arianrhod fleet by itself; the_ Hammerhead _and_ Isaribi _wouldn't even put a dent in it."_

Barriston took a deep breath. Gjallarhorn's Arianrhod fleet was huge, consisting of hundreds of ships and mobile suits, all dedicated to protecting Earth, the Moon, and the Lagrange point colonies. Its speed and ruthlessness were well known throughout the well-educated segments of the human population. Having that kind of power in Teiwaz's hands was incredibly tempting.

But Teiwaz's primary goal was making money, not war, so that held less of an appeal than a monopoly on all sorts of alien technologies.

"So, what do you think, Orga?" Barriston asked; Tekkadan's leader had great potential, and he wanted to see if the boy grasped the big picture.

Orga looked surprised by the question, but recovered quickly. _"I figured we'd have a hard fight on our hands the moment we saw the armor they were wearing. But after seeing that video, I_ know _we don't have a chance if we fight them. I don't know if we can trust Vass, but he's our only shot. I say we take the deal and give him what he wants."_

Barriston's eyes slid over to Naze, who looked straight at him and nodded. Both men on the scene were of the same mind, and that was good enough for him.

"Alright, let this Vass know we've agreed to his terms. Make whatever arrangements are necessary." Barriston cut the connection, then called in his assistant. "Arrange a full board meeting as soon as possible. Tell them it's urgent and can only be discussed face to face."

"Of course, sir."

Barriston sighed and contemplated the ever-shifting nature of politics in the solar system. While the deregulation of Martian half-metals was important, there were also the growing independence movements on Mars and the colonies to consider. Nobliss Gordon, a wealthy business man on Mars, supported them _and_ Kudelia Aina Bernstein. But even though Barriston aligned himself with Gordon for the moment, he sensed that Gordon was nothing more than an opportunist, a man of low cunning taking advantage of the unrest for the sake of profit.

Barriston scowled. He'd agreed to have Tekkadan convey some "cargo" – in reality, weapons and armed mobile workers – to the Dort colonies for Gordon, where a worker revolt was likely if labor conditions didn't improve. In all likelihood, it would be a flashpoint for a large-scale revolt against Gjallarhorn and the economic blocks of Earth, something Gordon and even Teiwaz could profit off of. But Teiwaz would benefit more from the deregulation of Martian half-metals _and_ something that could destabilize Gjallarhorn, but _not_ cause all-out war.

He sat there, wondering how he could turn knowledge of aliens' existence in his favor.

* * *

Naze Turbine pulled on one of his _many_ white suit jackets, looked at himself in the mirror, and frowned. Something was bothering him, and as he ran his hand through his hair, he realized what it was. His outfit was almost exactly the same as it was the day before, just with an indigo shirt, and he wasn't sure what impression that would make on his alien guests.

"Amida, what do you think? To samey, or just different enough?"

Amida Arca, Naze's favorite wife, sat on the edge of the bed, wearing her usual outfit: red button-down shirt knotted at her midriff and blue, low-cut pants. She cast an appraising eye on him as he spun around to show off his outfit. "Just different enough, although it's hard to tell if they'd see it that way. I'm not an expert in alien fashion."

Naze shrugged and smiled. "Well, none of us are. So I'll take my chances and hope they don't think I'm being lazy."

Amida got off the bed and stood by his side, arm in arm, leaning her head close to his ear. "Don't worry dear, you look ready for your date."

"Ha ha," Naze muttered as they left his quarters. "I could do without humoring the slaver, though."

"What, you didn't enjoy all the compliments she gave you?"

"Well, I _was_ wondering why she was laying them on so thick," Naze admitted as they turned a corner. "No, I'm just worried about us slipping up and letting her know that we're on to her plan."

"There's nothing _you_ have to worry about," Amida whispered in his ear. "You're good at keeping a straight face in… intense situations."

He laughed as they stepped into an elevator, punching the button to the hangar deck. "True, but I don't think what we get up to in bed compares to _this_ in any way, unless you're suggesting I try to woo her into changing her mind?"

"No, I don't think you could do it, no matter how hard you tried," Amida admitted as the elevator came to a halt. "But maybe wooing her would help with the rest of the plan."

She pulled him in for a kiss, then gently pushed him through the opening doors. "Now keep that little brother of yours out of trouble."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure of it," Naze replied as the doors slid shut, then walked down the corridor. Orga stood by the door to the hangar, with his two subordinates standing a respectful distance away. The grim, ultra-serious look on the young man's face was too much for Naze to bear. "Relax Orga, the hard part's over. Now we just have to schmooze and make sure everything goes smoothly."

As expected, Orga's funk disappeared, replaced by a look of utter confusion. "Schmooze? What's that?"

"It means 'making friends and influencing people,'" Naze explained. "I read about it in a book once."

For his part, Orga looked skeptical, but then the light on the door panel switched from red to green; the hangar had been repressurized. Naze stepped through before Orga could protest any further, stopping right in front of the shuttle hovering in the hangar. The door slid open, revealing the occupants, right as Orga and his men walked up behind him.

As soon as Dantius and her party, which thankfully included Dr. Vass, stepped onto the gantry, Naze began playing the host again. "Captain Dantius, it's such a pleasure have you aboard again so soon!"

Dantius played the role of friendly space explorer to a tee. "Likewise, Naze. I hear you have a proposition for me."

"More of a modest proposal, really," he replied, acting as humble as he could. But he noticed that the gap between her speech and the translation was getting smaller. That was a sign that the Salarian doctor's information was legitimate; he'd mentioned that their translators used advanced algorithms that exponentially increased in efficiency as they were exposed to more and more samples of a new language. "Since Dr. Vass is trying to get a broad sample of bacteria and viruses, perhaps he'd be interested in taking a look at the _Isaribi_. I'm sure there are all sorts of interesting germs aboard a mercenary vessel."

Dantius looked back at Vass, who looked thoughtful. "The idea certainly has merit. Mercenaries _are_ known for their less than stellar hygiene. Having a broader range of samples never hurts, either."

The Tekkadan men stiffened a bit at that, but they kept their mouths shut.

When Dantius hesitated, Orga added, "I'll personally escort the doctor to guarantee his safety, so there won't be any problems."

"Alright," she conceded. "Take our shuttle, since its already up and running. Gurji, go with them."

The Salarian guard nodded and hopped back into the shuttle, with Orga and Vass following shortly. Naze turned his attention back to the Asari captain and motioned towards the door. "Now, Captain Dantius, I'm sure there's _some_ business we can accomplish while we wait for them to go and come back."

"Indeed there is," she replied, following him out into the corridor, nonplussed that the human had two guards to her one. Of course, Naze knew why; Dantius and her Asari bodyguard could easily overpower all three humans just with their guns, never mind their biotics. "I know we have many technologies that Teiwaz could benefit financially from, but what _you_ don't know is that your artificial gravity technology is _very_ desirable in our space."

"Really? I had no idea." The group stopped in front of the elevator door, with Naze pressing the call button. "I guess I simply assumed that your society, with a mastery of faster than light travel, already had artificial gravity."

Dantius chuckled, as though they were old friends joking around. "That's not quite what I meant. We do have artificial gravity, but it requires a resource that's better used in other ways, like building FTL drives for shuttles. If we had _your_ artificial gravity technology, we could use that material more productively."

"Ah." Everyone crammed into the elevator. "I'm afraid there are some complications with that."

"How serious are these complications?" Dantius asked as the elevator began moving up through the ship.

"Serious enough that you probably won't get anywhere the legitimate route," Naze replied.

"And that would be…?"

The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. Naze led them out into the corridor, talking as they went. "You remember I mentioned an organization called Gjallarhorn?"

"Yes, it was some sort of mediator between the economic blocks on your home planet, right?"

"That is one of their _many_ roles," he said as they stepped into the meeting room. "They also control the production of Ahab reactors, the power source for human ships and mobile suits. And, as it so happens, Ahab reactors are a crucial part of our artificial gravity system."

For once, Dantius' confused expression seemed to be genuine. "I don't understand."

"I'll explain the basics, since that's all I _do_ know." Naze plopped himself down in one of the leather chairs, motioning for Dantius to sit on couch across from him. "Ahab reactors produce Ahab waves, which have multiple effects, but one of them is that they can create artificial gravity under the right circumstances. Since Gjallarhorn controls their production, everyone else has to rely on Calamity War surplus reactors if they want to build a ship or mobile suit with one."

"Didn't you say that war took place over 300 years ago?"

"Yes, and before you ask, the reactors _do_ last that long." Naze leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "Don't ask _me_ how long they last; I'm not an engineering expert."

"So… what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying," Naze spread his arms, "is that if you want that technology, you'll have to invest in a partnership with Teiwaz first. Teiwaz has access to Ahab reactors and the facilities to produce them, and you have the science to help us reverse engineer them."

"And if we work together, we can both corner the markets in our respective territories." Dantius tapped the chin of her helmet. "There's just one problem: my crew and I _can't_ stay here forever, working on this. For starters, we're contracted out for a three year exploratory run, and we lose half our pay if we don't get back on time."

Naze wisely said nothing.

"Of course, there _might_ be a way around that problem," she continued.

He raised an eyebrow. "And that would be…?"

A rapacious smile spread across Dantius' face. "A communications system that guarantees real time contact between any two points in galaxy."

Naze leaned forward, doing his best to feign ignorance. "Really? Such a thing exists?"

"Well, it's certainly a fairly pricey piece of our technology," Dantius admitted, "but I'm willing to offer it in exchange for access to these Ahab reactors of yours."

"That's quite an offer," Naze replied, leaning back in his chair. "But if I'm going to seriously propose this to Mr. Barriston, I need some concrete details."

Dantius leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap. "What do you want to know?"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Sunrise/Bandai own Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans. EA and Bioware own Mass Effect.

* * *

Chapter 5

A bitter taste sat in Orga's mouth, and as he stood there in the shuttle, with a white-knuckle death grip on one of the safety bars, it intensified when he saw the _Isaribi_ loom above them.

Not that it was the ship's fault. Tekkadan had taken every bit of CGS property they could get their hands on, and Maruba, the former owner of CGS, had at least taken good care of it. And it did everything they asked of it, no matter how hard or insane it was.

 _No,_ Orga thought, _that's not the problem. The problem is_ I _can't see any other way for us to get out of this alive._

Even in the dark days of CGS, he knew they were unstoppable. His strategic smarts, Biscuit Griffon's advice, Mikazuki and Akihiro's strength, and the combined guts of each and everyone one of them had beaten Gjallarhorn with nothing but an old busted mobile suit and some mobile workers. Each battle made them sharper, got them more resources to work with, and helped get Tekkadan one step closer to staying afloat. There was _nothing_ they could not do.

Until now.

He cast a glance at Dr. Vass, silently standing there with his big, black, untrustworthy eyes. _You just had to let us_ know _we couldn't stand a chance,_ Orga quietly fumed. The tablet Vass provided contained basic information on the aliens' technology and tactics, and quite a bit of footage of what their weapons could do. That had been more than enough for Orga and Naze to go through a few wargame scenarios before updating Mr. Barriston, and none of the results had been promising.

That night, Orga's nightmares had been filled with nothing but dead bodies and broken dreams.

The shuttle flew into the open hatch above the back of the _Isaribi_ 's mobile suit catapult, stopping beside the Graze Custom. When the hangar repressurized, the shuttle's door slid open, allowing Orga and Vass to hop out onto the gantry. Gurji, the Salarian guard, started to follow them, but stopped in his tracks when Orga aimed a withering glare in his direction.

"Stay here," Orga ground out. "My people are expecting me and the doctor, no one else. If they see you, they might think something's up and who knows what'll happen."

Gurji gulped. "But, uh, I'm supposed to make sure nothing happens to Dr. Vass…"

"And _I_ already said that I _personally_ guarantee his safety." Orga struggled to reign in his temper. "Now stay here and _don't touch anything_. There's live ordinance lying around in here."

Orga and Vass walked out in silence, not saying a word to each other until they got into the elevator.

"So, have your leaders made a decision?"

Orga refused to look at the Salarian. "They did. They're taking the deal, because Naze and I recommended it."

"Is that so?" Vass fixed Orga under an inscrutable stare. "It must have been hard for you."

Orga's face hardened. "What makes you say that?"

"The way you're behaving, mostly." The Salarian shrugged. "There are certain personality types common in mercenaries, such as those who take great pride in their groups and their abilities. You strike me as one of those, more than anything else."

 _He's got me there,_ Orga thought.

"You're right about that," he grudgingly admitted. "I'll always bet on Tekkadan over anyone else… at least, I did before you all showed up."

"Ah," Vass muttered, "this is about your technological inferiority."

 _Now_ Orga turned to face the Salarian. "This has _nothing_ to do with that. _Everyone_ in Tekkadan is willing to put their lives on the line, but I'm not going to ask them to waste their lives fighting a war we don't have a chance of winning!"

 _That_ had been the hardest pill to swallow, in the end. Every wargame Orga and Naze thought up led to Tekkadan's destruction, and that was against _one_ ship, with roughly the same amount of crew as the _Isaribi_. And that was simply unacceptable, at least to Orga. CGS might've thrown away their lives, but that ran counter to Tekkadan's goal of building a better life for its members. If they were going to die, it had to be worth _something_ in the end, otherwise _all_ of their lives would've been worthless.

To Orga's total confusion, Vass smiled. "How ironic. I had to leave Citadel Space to find a leader worthy of the title."

The elevator came to a halt, doors sliding open to let Vass out into the corridor. After a brief moment of bewilderment, Orga followed him, his mind full of new questions and worries.

* * *

 _"What the hell are you doing, Gurji?"_

Rala T'Pani shouting through the suit's speakers was enough to give the Salarian pause, but there was no way he was going to miss out on this potentially once in a lifetime opportunity. He opened the shuttle door and jumped into the hangar, using his hardsuit's built-in thruster pack to maneuver forward and avoid hitting the ceiling. He turned around to look at the mobile suit, trying to figure out the best angles for what he was planning.

On top of being a security guard and explosives expert, Gurji was a fairly talented photographer. His favorite subject matter was military hardware, and if a mercenary group was hauling around a giant humanoid mechanical construct, he figured it fit the bill. Now he just had to figure out the best way to make this 18-meter machine look good.

 _"Goddess, do you have any idea how much trouble we could get into if they find out?"_ Rala complained. _"I'm amazed they haven't sent some people in here already!"_

The Salarian photographer just ignored her, instead activating the camera drone he carried. He started playing around with the drone's settings, picking filters, shutter settings, and spectrum modes before bothering to reply to his Asari companion. "I don't think they'll beat us up for taking a few pictures of the outside of their mobile suit thing."

 _"I'm worried that they'll try to do something_ worse _,"_ the pilot replied. _"Besides, the boss'll be pissed if we somehow offend these people."_

Gurji laughed as he told the drone to spiral around the Graze as it took its photos. "I bet they couldn't do anything, even if they wanted to. That Naze guy is in charge, as far as I can tell, and he seems like a nice guy – I bet we'd just scolded and told not to do it again."

 _"Oh, you're such an optimist,"_ Rala shot back. _"Even if Naze and that Orga guy let us off the hook, we're_ still _going to get it from Captain Dantius."_

"If you think the captain's that cold-blooded, you should've locked the hatch," he teased back. He tapped a button and let the drone go to work. It obediently snapped shots of the Graze and returned to him, so he boosted back to the shuttle. As soon as he got inside and shut the hatch, he pulled up the results on his omni-tool.

"You know, that green and white color scheme they've got on that thing is terrible," Gurji muttered as he cycled through the true color photos. The false color infrared photos were total bores and the ultraviolet pics worthless, but as he looked closer at the true color pictures, he noticed something odd about the paint. He struggled to remember what it was, until all of a sudden it hit him – the light was reflecting in a uniform, matte way.

Gurji's hand hit the hatch control before his brain fully processed the information, but it stubbornly refused to budge. He hit two more times before shouting, "Rala, open the hatch! I need to go outside again!"

 _"Oh no, you're not going_ anywhere _,"_ the Asari replied with a healthy serving of smug in her voice. _"Thanks for giving me this idea, though."_

"Damn it, Rala, quit being a comedian and _open the hatch!_ "

 _"We've pushed our luck enough for today,"_ the Asari replied. _"If you want more photos, ask them yourself."_

 _And I would_ do _that,_ Gurji thought to himself, _if photos_ were _what I wanted. Somehow, I don't think these people would appreciate an alien scanning their armor's composition._

He sat on the deck and stared morosely out the window. _Sorry Professor, but I won't be proving your theories today._

* * *

"Come on, Miss Kudelia!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Kudelia Aina Bernstein quickly grabbed two stacks of Styrofoam boxes full of food and moved towards the door as fast as her burden allowed her. She focused on mentally mapping out the route she and Atra would take through the ship to deliver the food. At no point did she allow herself to question the value of the menial work she was doing, for to do that was to sink back into the depths of self-pity.

And after finally feeling like she was contributing on this journey, Kudelia could _not_ accept that.

She was so preoccupied with this that she almost missed the snippet of conversation she caught as the mess hall door opened. "—should only take two or three days for the vaccines to be produced and distributed."

Before her brain could fully process the fact that she was looking at an alien in a gray and green spacesuit holding a small silver suitcase, or that there was a slight delay between what he was actually saying and the version she could understand, the alien looked at Atra, looked back at Orga, then pointed to Atra. "What is this small child doing here?"

Before anyone else could respond, Atra rose to her own defense. "I'm not a child! I'm 15!"

"Atra's our cook," Orga added, cutting off any questions the alien had. "And this is—"

Kudelia quickly looked for anywhere to put the boxes down, then resigned herself to the ridiculousness of her situation. "Kudelia Aina Bernstein. I'm volunteering to help Atra deliver all this food to the… crew."

At the last moment, she had caught Orga's expression, which said _Don't tell him that we're all kids_. It was right about then that she realized her knees were shaking, and not from having to carry all those boxed meals. An uncomfortable silence seemed to stretch on forever as the alien's black eyes took in both girls.

"I am Dr. Jal Vass, at your service," he said, bowing a bit. "I'm here to see what kind of bacteria I can find on your ship. So I'll get out of your way and let you complete your task."

True to his word, he backed away from the door and allowed them to get into the corridor. Before they all went their separate ways, Vass turned back and said, "I hope we'll have the opportunity to speak again."

"Uh… right," Kudelia replied, feeling somewhat weirded out by his reply. Maybe it was just the way the computer or whatever it was handling the translation handled it, but she got the distinct impression that he was implying that they _would_ speak again. But she set that aside and walked down the corridor with Atra, who seemed awfully nonplussed about meeting an alien.

"Um… Miss Kudelia?" Atra's voice knocked Kudelia out of her reverie. "Why was Dr. Vass looking for germs?"

Kudelia sighed in relief, glad she got a question she could answer. "Have you ever heard of a book called _The War of the Worlds_?"

When Atra shook her head, Kudelia continued. "It's a really old book, from before people lived on Mars. In the story, aliens from Mars invaded Earth and beat humanity, but Earth's germs killed them."

The gears turned in Atra's eyes. "So they're afraid that our germs could hurt them?"

Kudelia nodded. "And I wouldn't be surprised if they're worried that their germs could hurt _us_."

"I had no idea you had to worry about that kind of stuff," Atra admitted as they turned a corner.

"I'm not surprised," Kudelia replied. "It doesn't come up a lot in movies or stories."

"You think he was serious about getting all that stuff done in two or three days?"

"I guess they're better at medicine than we are," Kudelia muttered. "I wonder what else they're good at."

A large part of her hoped that the aliens really were the peaceful explorers they said they were, but a small, growing part of her mocked that idea. After all, her father had already sold her out before she started this trip, so that wouldn't have been the totally unexpected. But Naze Turbine had started out as their enemy and wound up being their strongest ally, so she couldn't discount the possibility that were good people.

 _No,_ Kudelia thought, _I_ can't _be afraid of hope. Even if it gets me into trouble, I_ have _to hold on to it, because I'm the only one who has the power to make it real for the people of Mars._

Feeling renewed certainty, Kudelia went on her rounds, head held up high.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** So here's my take on Orga - he's a Kirk (both Star Trek timelines)/Sisko kinda guy, just without the knowledge and experience that tells him that diplomacy can and does work in the right situations, and that sometimes you can't take the shortest, most direct path to your goals. So here's something that utterly challenges his mindset _and_ he has little actual involvement in, which means he gets to do some soul-searching and growth that doesn't require one of his best friends dying in front of him.

Don't worry, I know where I'm going with Gurji. He may have an encounter with a certain idiot in the far future of this story.

Oh, and writing Kudelia is a **massive** pain, mostly because that sort of idealistic, determined mindset isn't easy for someone like me to get, even if the rest of her personality is pretty straight forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Sunrise and Bandai. EA and Bioware own Mass Effect.

* * *

Chapter 6

A private elevator speed up the tower of Vingolf, Gjallarhorn's artificial island/ship headquarters. Within it, Lord Gallus Bauduin sighed and took a bracing sip of black coffee. While he was proud to be the head of one of the Seven Stars of Gjallarhorn, he had no love for the boring tasks that made up his duties. If it were possible, he would gladly shove them off on some lower ranking bureaucrats to spend more time with his family. But since the Seven Stars were held to a higher standard than the rest of Gjallarhorn, due to their ancestors slaying the dreaded mobile armors that caused the Calamity War, he simply shouldered the burdens of his responsibilities.

The elevator slowed to a stop, its doors opening to reveal his aide, Major Dikembe Balewa. Balewa's dark skin, short hair, and well-trimmed goatee gave him an imposing mien, which helped intimidate some of the less productive members of Gjallarhorn's bureaucracy. Also useful was Balewa's long career in Gjallarhorn's special operations division, which provided a large network of contacts inside and outside of Gjallarhorn.

"Good morning, Dikembe." Gallus swallowed some more coffee as he walked towards his office. "The usual schedule, or has anything interesting happened while I was asleep?"

"The usual schedule, with one exception," Balewa replied, glancing at a computer tablet. "Major Takeshedawa from Deep Space Telemetry wishes to speak with you. She says it is urgent, and that it cannot be communicated over the usual channels."

It took Gallus' brain a few moments to recall that yes, he _was_ the person who oversaw Deep Space Telemetry. But since all they did was report on routine traffic going to and from Saisei, which he automatically forwarded to the head of the Arianrhod fleet, Rustal Ellion, it had slipped his mind. _I wonder what could possibly be so important,_ Gallus thought, _but I might as well see her. At the very least, it'll give me a little more time to prepare myself for the day ahead._

"Send her in," Gallus muttered as he entered his office. Structurally, it was almost identical to Iznario Fareed's office – one wall dominated by a giant window and enough room to stuff roughly half a battalion in without feeling crowded. Unlike the head of the Fareed family, Gallus Bauduin actually had some furniture in the room that _wasn't_ his desk and chair. An oak coffee table, a pair of couches, and a few dressers helped fill out the space between the desk and the inner wall. Of course, sticking these few items was like dropping islands into the ocean – it did little to solve the problem, but it at least made being here mildly more interesting.

Just as he settled down on one of the couches, Major Hiromi Takeshedawa entered the room. The Asian woman paused as she searched the enormous room with her eyes, totally uncertain about what decorum applied here. Gallus smiled a bit and waved her over. "Come Major, have a seat."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, her discomfort barely perceptible. Takeshedawa placed her tablet on coffee table and ran her hands over her blue and white uniform jacket.

"Coffee, Major?" Takeshedawa shook her head; Gallus simply shrugged it off and took a sip. "So, what's so important that you had to see me in person?"

"Well sir, 48 hours ago, our surveillance satellites in the vicinity of Jupiter noticed some unusual activity near Saisei." She pulled up some images on her tablet and handed it to him. The pictures were of a roughly diamond shaped object, a T-shaped ship, and one of the ubiquitous assault carriers that mercenary and pirate groups used. "That was when a vessel began approaching the station – a vessel whose design does _not_ match any known configuration made before, during, or after the Calamity War."

An icy fist threatened to close one Gallus Bauduin's heart as the implications began filtering through his mind.

"12 hours later, two ships approached the unknown vessel. One of them has been confirmed to be the _Hammerhead_ , commanded by the head of Teiwaz's transport division. A shuttle of some kind has made several trips between the two vessels." Takeshedawa frowned. "We haven't been able to get a positive ID on the assault carrier, but intel indicates that it _might_ be the _Isaribi_ , Tekkadan's assault carrier."

"Tekkadan?" Gallus frowned, trying to place the name. "Ah yes, they're the ones involved with that Kudelia woman on Mars. Any particular reason why those two ships would go greet this unknown?"

"Tekkadan's involvement might simply be financial," Takeshedawa replied, pulling up new information on her tablet and passing it back to Gallus. "As you can see, Teiwaz has recently provided some funding to Tekkadan. It's likely that they are there under contract to protect the _Hammerhead_."

"I see." Gallus set the tablet down on the table. "And what about Teiwaz?"

"Sending their head of transportation to deal with the situation is a low risk move," she replied. "He's high enough in the hierarchy to have some power and legitimacy when it comes to negotiations, but the negative impact if he died would only be a short-term inconvenience."

Gallus merely grunted at that. "So, what do you think we have here?"

Takeshedawa froze, as if it never occurred to her that he might want her interpretation of the facts. Her left eye had a minute twitch for a second or two before she regained her composure. "It _appears_ that Teiwaz might be in contact with aliens, sir."

"And what do you think the outcome of that might be?"

"I… I don't _know_ , sir." Takeshedawa's eyes stayed locked on the tablet laying on the table. "This has never happened before."

"Yes, you're right about that," Gallus said slowly. "How many people know about this, besides the two of us?"

"Just 2 technicians and their supervisor. I've already told them that the information is classified."

"Good." Gallus sat back on his couch. "Maintain surveillance for now, and try to get as much information as you can. I need as much concrete information as possible before I brief the rest of the Seven Stars. Understood?"

Takeshedawa grabbed her tablet, stood up, and saluted. "Yes sir!"

"Very well. You're dismissed." Gallus sighed long and hard as the major left, casting a tired glance at the door. As soon as Takeshedawa stepped out, Balewa entered the room, ever the dutiful assistant. Gallus motioned him over to the coffee table. "Dikembe, do you know when Gaelio and McGillis will arrive?"

"By the end of the week, sir." Balewa hadn't even consulted a tablet to answer the question; Gallus suspected the major was keeping tabs on their journey back from Mars just for these sorts of situations.

"Good, good," Gallus said, nodding vigorously. "When they get back, let them know that I want to see them – but _after_ they see Iznario – and that it's not urgent."

"Trouble, sir?" Balewa's bland delivery hinted at his awareness of Gallus' discomfort.

"Perhaps, or perhaps not." Gallus sighed again, then forced himself to smile. "That said, Dikembe, I could use another cup of coffee before I start this paperwork."

"Of course, sir."

* * *

McMurdo Barriston smiled a bit as he entered the Teiwaz boardroom. There was something to be said for having everyone stand up and bow in respect on your arrival. Of course, Barriston knew there was a time and place for the pomp and circumstance; he never bothered with it when serious matters were afoot.

As he settled into his chair at the head of the table, he looked each of his subordinates in the eye. "You all know the basics about what's going on."

No one said anything. It was not only a statement of fact, it was a condemnation of anyone who _didn't_ and dared show that ignorance in McMurdo Barriston's presence.

"There have been some recent developments," he added. "Ones that open new opportunities for us."

The other men at the table leaned forward, eager to hear more.

"Our alien visitors," he said, mildly amazed by how _normal_ it seemed to him now, "are planning to sell our entire species to another species as slaves."

Barriston held up a hand to forestall the inevitable disgust and outrage. "However, one of them is helping us neutralize that threat, and in the process, is delivering us a treasure trove of alien technology and knowledge."

The eagerness in their eyes intensified, and in some, mixed with a naked hunger that annoyed Barriston. If someone had pressed him to admit any flaws in Teiwaz's upper echelons, he would've reluctantly said that some of them were too greedy for their own good. While the desire to have more of anything was a powerful motivator, it could easily be self-destructive. Barriston had seen many contemporaries meet an unpleasant end because their reach exceeded their grasp.

"Let's start with what's off the table, at least in the short term. We won't be able to reproduce their faster than light drive any time soon – it requires some special element we're not sure we can find. Anything else that involves that element is also off the table." Barriston pulled out a tablet from his robe and scrolled through it. "The short term options we know of are all very profitable: medicines, a highly sophisticated all in one device that you can wear on your arm, and, most importantly, untraceable and unhackable point to point communications."

He set the tablet down. "This communications technology, by the way, is essentially what we've been trying to develop."

One of the men at the table, a deeply tanned man with a face that looked like a bombing range, stiffened.

Barriston motioned for him to calm down. "That's not meant as a criticism of your efforts, Husker. In fact, they're the only reason this is a short term project."

Jasley Donomikols, Barriston's second in command, glanced at Husker. The two couldn't be more different: Donomikols' red hair and yellow fur-lined coat were the exact opposite of Husker's black hair and dark gray suit. The touch of arrogance in Donomikols' voice further accentuated their differences. "What's this problem you couldn't figure out?"

Husker glanced at Barriston, who nodded in approval. "The research team I've been funding built a device that uses quantum entanglement to send information – you take a pair of atoms, link them together on the quantum level, and what happens to one happens to the other, no matter how far away they are. The problem is that they haven't gotten it to work consistently all the time. Most of the time it works, but it'll randomly stop working sometimes, and they haven't been able to figure it out."

Donomikols leaned back in his chair. "So if we get a look at the aliens' system, we could figure out what's going wrong in our version, fix it, and start production."

"Exactly," Barriston said, smiling a bit. "We won't have to worry about Gjallarhorn locking down the Ariadne network any longer."

The Ariadne were massive space constructs that provided navigational fixes for traveling ships and relayed real-time communications between planets. Gjallarhorn controlled access to the network, frequently suspending access whenever it cracked down on dissident organizations. Only the extremely wealthy could afford to maintain near-permanent access to the network, and even then, Gjallarhorn could cut them off by shutting down the actual beacons.

Smiles broke out on the faces of the other men on the table.

"We'll have the whole ship and hopefully its crew in our possession by the end of the week," Barriston added. "So once that's done, we can take a look at the rest of what they have to offer. But the priority is on the communications system – if nothing else, we _must_ start production within a year, especially if Martian half-metals get deregulated. I want a direct connection between Saisei and every Inner Sphere facility we've got inside of two years."

The rest vigorously nodded.

"As for the rest of the technology we can profit off in the short term…" Barriston trailed off, lost in thought. "I want _at least_ one product on the market inside of two years. I think that's reasonable, don't you think?"

Again, everyone nodded, but this time, it was because they all knew failure was not an option.

* * *

Milena Dantius paced in the wardroom of the _Thrill Seeker_ , silently praising the goddesses of Thessia that there wasn't a podium for her to stand at. Instead, like _sane_ beings, they made the wardroom just contain a table with chairs around it and a few display screens. Of course, the original chairs had been replaced – what was comfortable for Turians was awkward for Asari – but overall, the compartment was one of the least modified parts of the ship.

Unfortunately for everyone else in the room, namely Rija Irissa and Natrene Calis, it meant they had constantly turn their chairs to avoid Dantius smashing her leg into one of _their_ legs.

"What the hell could taking Vass and Hastia so long?" Dantius muttered as she continued circling the room. "I _told_ them they needed to be here on the dot!"

Irissa, in a calm, flat tone, attempted to inject some reason into her captain. "Maybe setting up the vaccines took longer than expected."

"Or," Calis interjected, with a sinister smirk on her face, "Hastia and Vass are going at it down below. She does have a taste for them, doesn't she?"

"Don't be an idiot," Dantius shot back, rolling her eyes. "Hastia does _not_ have a fetish for Salarians."

"She did when we were all off on Taetrus," Calis replied.

"No, she fucked that guy because they were both into weird alt-synth stuff out of the Terminus systems. When he got rotated back to HQ, she fucked a Turian who was _also_ into that." Dantius frowned, putting her hand under her chin and pointing at Calis. "You were her roommate, you should _know_ this."

"I knew _way_ too much about her shit taste in music when we were both maidens." Calis leaned back in her chair, hands on the back of her head. "I've spent the last century or so trying to forget it."

Before anyone could reply, the wardroom doors opened to admit Hastia Iallis and Dr. Vass. Both were grinning from ear to ear, a somewhat disconcerting sight, given typical Salarian facial features. The pair sat down, and everyone else awaited a great revelation.

"We did it!" Iallis' exclamation was so simple and earnest that it sucked all enthusiasm out of the room.

"What my esteemed colleague is trying to say," Vass interjected, "is that we've finalized the vaccines and have begun synthesizing them."

Dantius, Irissa, and Calis all nodded vigorously.

"We should have prototype batches ready in six hours," Vass continued. "The ones for Citadel space species should take no longer than 12 hours to take full effect. The human one, on the other hand, might take up to 24 hours. Even with the humans' generous offerings of medical data, I felt a more conservative approach would work best."

Vass, of course, omitted the fact that his vaccines were based on bioweapon he helped engineer for the STG, one that would use the victims' own immune system against them.

"I'm guessing you're going to need volunteer test subjects for both versions of the vaccine," Dantius observed.

Iallis nodded. "We don't need all that many for our version of the vaccine, because we understand the physiology of Citadel space species quite well. For the humans, well…"

"Ideally, we'd have a large trial sample, say 40 to 100 subjects, from both sexes." Vass sighed. "Since we don't know much about the composition of their crews, I'll settle for 8, split evenly between male and female."

"I'll let Naze know about that," Dantius replied, nodding to herself. "Any ideas on who our first picks for volunteers should be?"

"Literally any maiden could do," Irissa pointed out.

"Gurji, because they've seen him before," Calis added. "What about Vorhess?"

Dantius shook her head. "Absolutely not. I'm not risking losing our best engineer if something _somehow_ goes wrong."

"Not a lot of Batarians aboard," Iallis pointed out. "I know there's one or two in your department, Natrene."

"Fine, I can spare Pazness, but I don't like being two men down," Calis groused.

"That's just your paranoia talking," Dantius smirked. "Anyway, I want the tests to start as soon as the vaccines are finished. Is there anything else you'd like to add, Doctor?"

Vass paused and tapped his chin. "There is one thing – the human volunteers should be in a medical facility aboard one of their ships, preferably with me there to handle any medical complications. I would also need a human doctor or medic on hand to assist, and a direct connection to the _Thrill Seeker_ , in case I need Ms. Iallis' help."

Dantius frowned. "We still haven't sorted out that radio interference, and apparently, we can't use our comm lasers to talk to them, so I can't guarantee a solid, dependable connection."

"I see." Vass shrugged and smiled. "I'll just have to muddle through as best I can."

"I appreciate your confidence." A smile crossed Dantius' face. "Alright, let's get this done and for the love of Athame, try to keep the crew's expectations under control. We don't need any incidents when we're so close to getting what we want."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Sorry this took so long, but the holiday season and the IBO S2 hiatus sucked some of the motivation out of me, then I got nailed by the flu/cold a bit. It also didn't help that I didn't figure out this chapter structure (going from the least informed to the most informed POVs) until after a few false starts.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans is owned by Sunrise/Bandai. Mass Effect is owned by EA/Bioware.

* * *

Chapter 7

The _Isaribi_ 's sickbay was cleanest compartment on the whole ship. Every bulkhead was covered in nice, well maintained white paint, and not a smudge could be spotted anywhere. The reason was simple – back when Maruba ran CGS, he knew he needed a doctor for any long space runs. By keeping the medical areas spick and span, he could keep whichever of the short list of doctors he had on call happy, which would make them more likely to keep working for him.

Up until this point in the voyage, none of the crew had actually bothered to go inside. There'd been no major illnesses or injuries to require its use. This was a minor stroke of luck for Tekkadan, since none of them had anything more than basic field medical training, and Maruba had taken his list of doctors with him.

Now there were ten people in the compartment, leaning on walls or sitting on boxes. Two were Turbines – Azee Gurumin and Lafter Frankland. Six were Tekkadan, officially or unofficially – Dante Mogro, Shino Norba, Eugene Sevenstark, Ride Mass, Atra Mixta, and Kuedelia Aina Bernstein. One was Teiwaz – Merribit Stapleton, sent to oversee the crew's operations and doubling as a medic. And one, of course, was Dr. Vass.

Normally, Dr. Vass would've been the only one wearing a full spacesuit, but Merribit also wore one. The reason was simple: if the vaccine interacted with the test subjects' bodies in unexpected ways, such as mutating a benign germ into a contagious disease, they couldn't afford to lose the ship's medical expert. Even if that medical expert was nowhere near being a fully qualified doctor.

Kudelia and Atra were sitting together on a long, sturdy, plastic box, and Kudelia didn't want to know what was in it. She knew by now that the answer was probably going to be depressing, even if it was something as mundane as ration bars. So she focused her attention on what everyone else was doing. Azee was reading a book, Lafter was painting her nails, Atra was twiddling her thumbs, and the Tekkadan boys were busy trying and failing to play Blackjack.

Before Kudelia could turn around, she heard a sharp clap and winced as it echoed off the flat white walls. All eyes turned to Dr. Vass, who smiled and had the decency to look apologetic. "I must apologize – I had no idea that would be so loud. That said, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to administer the vaccine. If you'll please line up…"

Kudelia found herself at the front of the line, mostly thanks to everyone else putting their things down. She flinched as Vass pressed a tube to her neck, but all she felt was brief bit of pressure, like she'd put a bike pump against her hand. Vass then handed her a flat, featureless, coin-sized disk.

"Please put that on the center of your chest," he explained, pointing to the equivalent spot on his chest. "It's covered in a light adhesive so it'll stick to your skin, in order to track your vital signs."

Kudelia groaned as she walked off, unbuttoning her shirt and unzipping the undersuit everyone had to wear before sticking the disk on.

Once everyone was injected and had their disk on, Vass continued speaking. "To your left are restrooms, male and female. Mr. Mogro and his associate are sitting on your food supply, Ms. Bernstein and Ms. Mixta are sitting on your water supply, and I have several documentaries on Citadel space for you to watch. You'll be isolated in this room for 24 hours, merely as a precaution – if there haven't been any complications by the 6 hour mark, everything should be fine."

The Salarian and looked them all over. "Any questions?"

Ride raised his hand. "Yeah – where are we supposed to sleep?"

Vass sighed and pointed to a corner of the room. "Sleeping mats have been provided for you. You'll have to find a place to set them up, though."

Now Lafter raised her hand. "Do we at least get pillows?"

"Absolutely." Vass stepped over to a control panel and dimmed the lights. "Now, please enjoy the show."

A rectangle of light appeared on one of the bulkheads, initially displaying a blue screen, then showing what seemed to be alien legal gibberish. Several logos took its place, then footage of space appeared. The camera panned down, revealing a green and blue planet, lush and full of life. A soft, sultry woman's voice said, _"Thessia – the crown jewel of the Asari Republics."_

Kudelia smiled. _This is just like all those documentaries my teachers made me watch._

A title, again in alien script, faded onto the screen, then faded out as the camera dove through the atmosphere. Gasps, _ooh_ s and _ahhh_ s, and _whoa_ s escaped the humans' lips as a gleaming city, full of gracefully curved buildings, came into view, dominating the screen for several minutes. The narrator returned, explaining that the city was the planet's capital, but Kudelia's mind barely registered that information as the camera shifted to crowd shots.

Some small part of her mind recognized that there was something odd about them, but the thoughts refused to congeal into something coherent. It remained tantalizingly out of reach, at least until she started looking at everyone else's reactions. The ones that stood out the most to her were Shino and Eugene grabbing the other's shoulders and shaking them, and Azee burying her face in her hands. Kudelia took another look at the footage, and a revelation hit her square in the face.

The Asari were all _women_.

And punctuating this was Azee's muffled groan of, "We _can't_ tell Naze about this. He might try to marry the _entire planet_."

* * *

Off in the sickbay's office, Dr. Vass was engrossed in Merribit's explanation of the medical nanotechnology humans employed. While it wasn't perfect – necrosis of major organs, for example, could stymy treatment – it's versatility made it superior to most medical machinery in Citadel space. Like many things about humanity, Vass wondered if it was a holdover from the Calamity War. It seemed like _everything_ in recent human history tied into that war to a ridiculous degree – almost as if someone was intentionally suppressing change.

Then again, a war that wiped out a quarter of the population and severely damaged the homeworld's moon _would_ leave a lasting impact on the species – at least if they weren't Krogan.

At last, Merribit's explanation came to an end.

"Very fascinating," Vass commented, looking over one of the sarcophagus like units that retracted into the bulkhead. " _Many_ companies in Citadel space would be interested in the rights to this technology."

"Really?" Even through the face plates of their helmets and the general darkness of the room, Vass could see the surprise on her face. "These aren't even the best models. The ones on Earth do a better job of healing people. They're a bit slower though."

"Madam, I assure you there is _nothing_ like this in Citadel space." He paused, realizing that for all he knew, there _was_ the possibility he was wrong. "That I know of. Perhaps some lab or company has something similar, but if they do, they're doing a good job of keeping it secret."

"I guess I assumed that your people would have everything we have, just more advanced," she admitted.

"A common mistake," Vass assured her. "Every time civilizations make contact with each other, they discover that there's always some technological divergence due each species having different needs and different resources on hand."

"Huh." Merribit tried to wipe some sweat off her face, but her hand bounced off her helmet. After a second of awkward silence, both of them began chuckling.

Once they both calmed down, Vass took the conversation in another direction. "I have a few questions about human biology, if you don't mind. Nothing too involved, but there were some gaps in the medical data I was sent – most of it focused on diseases, immunological matters, and biochemistry."

"Well, I'll do my best," Merribit replied, leaning on the bulkhead. "What do you want to know?"

Vass shrugged, doing his best to look casual. "Nothing much, really. The information I was provided was quite vague on the human aging process. I know that humans can live up to 200 years, but nothing beyond that."

She sighed and looked down at the deck. "People _can_ live up to 200 years, but that's only if you can afford the medical treatments to do it. 50 to 60 is the average in most cases."

Vass tapped his helmet's chin plate. "And most of Tekkadan is…"

"I'm not sure, but I'd guess from 9 to 17."

The Salarian quickly did the math. "They're all… children?"

Merribit nodded. "I don't know a lot of the details, since I just came aboard, but it's pretty common on Mars. The economy is not… great there."

"Ah, that might explain the cybernetics." He caught Merribit closing her eyes and looking away. "I suppose there's something more to that too."

She nodded. "The Alaya-Vijnana System's an old type of man-machine interface used in the Calamity War. It was outlawed after the Calamity War, but mercenaries on Mars and in the Outer Spheres use them to avoid training them properly. These kids are the lucky ones – the implantation process kills or paralyzes most of the kids who have to go through it."

"Not really surprised by that," Vass admitted. Shock, disbelief, and a bit of anger crossed Merribit's face, and he felt obligated to explain himself. "You see, the high fatality rate is likely the result of not developing the technology in the 300 years or so after the war. I've seen similar things happen in the Terminus Systems – I would say they're as bad as your Mars seems to be."

"Really."

"Oh yes," he replied, intent on puncturing Merribit's skepticism. "One time, a Terminus warlord got his hands on some… ah… black market cybernetics and told the poorest citizens in his realm that if they volunteered to have implanted in themselves, their families would receive a generous stipend for their service. And, well, many people wound up dead or paralyzed, and in the end, the living envied the dead. It was quite horrible."

Merribit just stared at him as if he was insane.

"I know, it sounds quite heartless, but I dealt with the emotional baggage of that a _long_ time ago," Vass explained. "One of the few benefits of Salarian metabolism is that you get over things a lot faster than other races."

Her expression didn't change. "I'll take your word for it."

Vass nodded absently, then clapped his hands. "Oh, before I forget – could you please get this to Naze Turbine?"

He pulled a small black box off his hardsuit and handed it to Merribit.

"And this is…?"

Vass leaned and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "It's a small bottle of some _very_ special liquor that my captain likes. If Mr. Turbine offers her some, it might put her in a good enough mood to give us some extra time for shore leave."

"Okay…." Merribit stared at the box, then looked at Vass. "You're going to the _Hammerhead_ tomorrow – why not give it to him yourself?"

The Salarian chuckled. "There'll be too many witnesses! I'll have a few helping hands with me to speed up the vaccination process, so there'll be less opportunities for me to hand it off without anyone noticing."

Vass didn't mention the _other_ reason he wanted her to take it to him: the package included a message and small vial of neural suppressant, vital tools for the next phase of the plan. Since he didn't know how far Orga and Naze had circulated information about Dantius' plans, he'd been forced to come up with this ridiculous subterfuge once he'd seen the list of human vaccine volunteers. If it wasn't for Dante being one of the test subjects, he could've asked him to take the package, sans liquor, to Orga, who would send it to Naze.

"Wouldn't it be obvious that _you_ gave this to him?"

"Absolutely not," Vass assured her. "Partly because several crew members, including our primary shuttle pilot, have been thinking about doing this very thing, and there's even a betting pool on who'd be the first to do it. By acting first and being near the bottom of the list of likely candidates, any and all suspicion will fall on them first."

"If you say so." Merribit attached the box to the belt of her spacesuit. "Oh, by the way… did you know that there are babies on the _Hammerhead_?"

Vass chuckled. "Yes, Orga told me that. Given that it apparently takes your ships months to get from one planet to another, I am not surprised that the man has fathered children during his travels. I designed the vaccine with that in mind – I probably could've cut the amount of time for it take effect in half if there were only young adults and older on these vessels."

Merribit's expression softened for the first time since their conversation drifted away from the Alaya-Vijnana System. Sensing an opportunity, the doctor shifted the conversation in another direction.

"By the way, you wouldn't happen to know any good restaurants on Saisei, would you?"

* * *

The captain's office was a small, but comfortable compartment on _Isaribi_ , located not too far from the bridge. While there were no windows, a few paintings of spacescapes and landscapes made the place seem more welcoming. The nice leather couches and the leather chair tucked behind an L shaped desk attached to the bulkhead also helped. There was even a bathroom across from the desk, a rarity on the ship.

When the ship had been known as the _Will-o'-the-Wisp_ , this had been the place Maruba where schmoozed with clients and handled confidential communiques. Now it was Orga's private sanctum when things could happen, but weren't serious enough to demand his presence on the bridge. It was also where he handled the endless paperwork required to keep a PMC in business, and that was why Biscuit Griffon was here.

Unlike most of his compatriots in Tekkadan, Biscuit wasn't anywhere near a paragon of physical fitness. In fact, he stood out precisely _because_ he was the only fat person in all of Tekkadan, at least since the unlamented Todo Mirconen had been ejected off the ship in an escape pod. But physical fitness wasn't where Biscuit's strengths lie – it was in his ability to analyze situations and efficiently handling the day to day minutia of a small army.

"Let's see… we're running low on food," Biscuit said, scrolling the through the memoranda on his tablet. "We were supposed to restock on Saisei for the trip to Earth, but we never did, so Atra's saying we're almost out of everything but ration bars."

Orga ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I already talked with the Old Man. They'll be rushing over food and all the other supplies we need as soon as we get back."

"About that…" Biscuit hesitated. "I talked to the Turbines and if we're going to get to Earth and get Kudelia there on time, we… need to leave inside of a week."

"Yeah, I know," Orga said quietly. "We won't be dealing with this much longer."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them.

"Uh… Is something wrong, Orga?"

Orga closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. "Yeah, there is. I've been thinking a lot lately…"

"I thought that was my job."

Orga blinked, looking hard at Biscuit, who had goofy grin on his face. A second later, the two of them burst out laughing.

"I needed that," Orga admitted, leaning back into his chair. "But like I was saying, I've been thinking a lot lately, and I realized something."

"What, exactly?" Biscuit asked.

"I need to get a hell of a lot better at this 'being a leader' thing." Orga closed his eyes and sighed. "I might as well tell you now – some of the aliens were going to sell out all of humanity to another alien species. The only reason we aren't in trouble is because one of them is bailing us out with a plan to take out the senior officers."

Biscuit felt an icy chill settle over him. "What?"

"Looks like the rest of the galaxy isn't much better than what we've got here," Orga observed, opening his eyes and looking directly at Biscuit. "That part doesn't really surprise me, but the scary thing is, we're a joke compared to what's out there."

"It's that bad?"

Orga nodded. "That ship over there could probably blow us apart in one shot. It gets more depressing from there."

Biscuit wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Wow. That's pretty bad."

"Yeah, well, at least we wouldn't be the only ones fighting against impossible odds." Orga sighed again. "But it doesn't matter. The plan's coming to fruition soon."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, at some point, our inside man is probably going to kill the captain and most of the senior officers. He's already made a deal for Teiwaz to take them in once he takes over."

Biscuit raised an eyebrow. "So what are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing, and that's part of the problem," Orga admitted. "Naze's distracting Captain Dantius with business talk, so all I have to do is just keep quiet."

"And that's not how you like to do things," Biscuit commented, a knowing smile on his face.

"No, it isn't. But I realized something – I need to be able to do _more_ than fight." He sat straight up, eyes blazing with an almost unearthly intensity. "We're good fighters, but Tekkadan needs me to make deals, keep us getting business, talking our way out of bad deals… and I don't know how to do _any_ of that. I've gotta learn fast, or the next time, we might not be getting out alive."

"I think you might be taking this a bit too far," Biscuit cut in. "But it's great that you know what you don't know… and maybe you'll listen to me more often when you come up with your crazy plans."

Orga paused and stared at him in utter confusion. "You _always_ back up my plans."

"No, I always say they're crazy, but you refuse to listen and go through with them anyways." Biscuit smiled. "They _usually_ work out in the end, though."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Good news! In the next two chapters, people will begin dying! This arc will wrap up soon, then Tekkadan will get to face the Brewers with a few extra goodies.

Also, for those who think Dainsleifs could harm a real deal Mass Effect ship like the Thrill Seeker, please watch this clip from Mass Effect 2. That said, there are plenty of _other_ ships that should worry about Dainsleifs.


	8. Gaelio Must Suffer 1

Disclaimer: Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Sunrise/Bandai. EA and Bioware own Mass Effect.

* * *

Gaelio Must Suffer #1

Life was good for Gaelio Bauduin. He was well liked by his family, his peers, his best friend, and, most importantly, the ladies. He was well respected by everyone, mostly because he was an upstanding member of Gjallarhorn, even if he didn't agree with everything they were doing. He was even a pretty good mobile suit pilot, even though McGillis Fareed, his best friend, was _probably_ better. McGillis was even going to be his future brother in law, and the only thing that took the luster off that was that McGillis' father, Iznario Fareed, announced that when his sister was still a kid.

That, incidentally, helped Gaelio understand why McGillis acted as though the elder Fareed was a dick – it was just bad to actually _admit_ it, especially to Iznario's face.

But now he was stuck on a particularly long, boring flight from Mars to Earth, and he was a going a bit stir crazy. A _Briscoe_ class transport was basically a box just big enough to hold two mobile suits, people, and enough supplies to go from Earth to Mars. Theoretically, they could even go to Jupiter, if one wanted to die of boredom, but that would take even longer and would require stops on Mars and the asteroid belt, so no one did that.

The first week or two of the trip back from Mars at least had filling out reports to burn some time. Between the investigation of Major Coral, the former head of Gjallarhorn's Mars branch, and the after action reports on their encounter with Tekkadan, which included Coral's death, Gaelio and McGillis spent at least a week writing and revising documents. Now he had all the time in the world, and there was practically nothing he could do.

Sure, he could – and did – work out or jump in his Schwalbe Graze's cockpit for a simulated battle or two, but there wasn't much else to do besides eating and sitting around. And as a rule, Gaelio didn't hit on female crewmembers on Gjallarhorn ships – that could come back to bite him in the ass someday. Of course, he could hang out with his new subordinate, Ein Dalton, but the guy had the personality of a wet blanket. He'd gotten a few good stories about Lt. Crank out of Ein, but that usually ended with Ein silently fuming at Tekkadan for killing his mentor.

Gaelio found himself, as usual, hanging out in the mess hall, which had a corner devoted a few couches, a coffee table, and displays for people's entertainment. McGillis was there, reading a tablet on one of the couches.

"What's up, McGillis?" Gaelio plopped down on the other couch, pulling a set of wireless earbuds out of his pocket. He plugged them into the table and turned on the display, casually scrolling through a list of TV shows and movies.

"I've been reading a fascinating pre-Calamity War book on transhumanism," McGillis replied, brushing aside a lock of golden hair.

"Uh huh?" Gaelio swiped to the side, looking for the comedy genre. Trying to look for anything in the huge list of _everything_ was just too daunting a task.

"Transhumanism," McGillis patiently explained, "is the idea that humans can transcend their biological limitations through cybernetic or biological enhancements."

Gaelio felt his skin crawl. "Are… are you talking about the Alaya-Vijnana System?"

McGillis nodded. "Conceptually, the Alaya-Vijnana _is_ an embodiment of transhumanist principles. But from what I gather, almost all of the proponents of transhumanism would object to implanting technology in children to make them better soldiers."

"W- well, it's good to hear they weren't insane," Gaelio managed to say, his voice faltering. He had no idea how McGillis could read about that stuff without being sickened at the _idea_ of sticking technology in someone. In fact, when Gaelio had seen someone on Mars with the Alaya-Vijnana System, he'd puked his guts out (which was extra embarrassing, because that person was a kid that was strong enough to choke and lift him off his feet).

An awkward silence settled upon them, but then Gaelio found salvation – a buddy comedy called _Family Conniption_ , about two best friends getting their families into absurd situations. Gaelio popped in his earbuds, settled into a comfortable position on the couch, and for an hour, all his worries melted away. The comedy was mediocre, but it got a few chuckles from him, because this movie at least had people who could _act_ – Gaelio had often been forced to endure pretentious theater performances and movies filled with actors who couldn't act their way out of a plastic bag, the price of trying to woo many a (snobby) lady.

Then things got too real.

It all started with one of the main characters joking about how his best friend and sister should go on a date. Gaelio chuckled a bit, considering the parallel with his own circumstances, then things got worse. The best friend got _way_ too into the idea, outright saying he'd like to bang the sister, and that was when the mental imagery began – Almiria on McGillis' lap, them at the beach in bathing suits... Gaelio's eyes almost squeezed shut as his face twisted in disgust, his hands fumbling to find the pause button.

 _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it_

Gaelio disconnected his earbuds and shoved them in his pocket, walking away in the vain hope of scrubbing the horrible images out of his mind, leaving only a confused McGillis in his wake.

* * *

 ** **Author's Note:****  
Real life basically has been wearing me out the last two months, so to recharge the batteries, I'm doing this comedy stuff to get myself back into writing shape. If you're familiar with Star Trek: Deep Space 9, you will know exactly why this is named the way it is. The first few will probably fit into canon pretty well, but once Gaelio gets to Earth, they'll start becoming more tied to this story's continuity.

Also, before you ask, the ending is going to be a lot better for Tekkadan and their allies, but Iok will find _new_ ways to fuck things up, so look forward to that.


	9. Gaelio Must Suffer 2

Disclaimer: Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Sunrise and Bandai. EA and Bioware own Mass Effect.

* * *

 **Gaelio Must Suffer #2**

Gaelio stepped into the transport's hanger, where his Schwalbe Graze rested on the ceiling, alongside its companion. A _Briscoe_ class transport was too small to have a proper hangar, where the mobile stood on the deck. Instead, they were secured to the ceiling, which gave them a more ominous air, and Gaelio didn't care for that. He saw himself and the best of Gjallarhorn as noble knights, and imposing mobile suits just ruined that image.

He crouched and jumped, spinning a little in the air, before catching himself on the cockpit of his purple mobile suit. Right as he was about to open the hatch, a brown head covered in grease popped up on the other side of the Schwalbe's chest.

"Ah, Major Bauduin! Give me a few more minutes – I'm almost done!"

"Sure thing," Gaelio replied, fighting off a minor panic attack as he struggled to remember the man's name. All he remembered was it started with an A and had _way_ too many vowels in it for him to remember. Every time he looked at it, he could feel his brain actively _refuse_ to memorize it, which made him feel terrible, because the man was a great mechanic.

Gaelio leaned back on the mobile suit's frame, silently waiting for the man to finish… whatever it was he was doing.

"Alright, it's all done!" the mechanic reported, swinging across the front of the Schwalbe's chest. "She's all yours now, sir."

"Great! Thanks a lot." Gaelio popped open the cockpit hatch and paused. "What exactly _were_ you working on?"

"Just a little preventative maintenance. Lubing up a few joints and hinges, that sort of thing."

Gaelio smiled. He liked mechanics who actually took the time to get ahead of a problem – it saved pilots like him major problems out in the field. "Great thinking! Why don't you take a break while I get some hands-on simulator time?"

"You don't have to tell me twice, sir! Have a good time!" With that, the mechanic left the same way Gaelio came in.

"Alright, time to fight the Gundam," Gaelio muttered as he swung himself into his pilot's seat. His hands flew over the controls, pulling up menus for the built-in simulator mode. He loaded up the latest combat data, then a bunch of custom settings to make the fight more realistic – the Schwalbe's computer could only make a half accurate guess about what the Gundam's pilot would do. Gaelio had done a bunch of work to make it about 75-80% accurate, mostly by assuming the Gundam pilot, who was the kid who'd choked him out on Mars, had a complete lack of subtlety and favored brute force in combat.

The simulation came to life and in an instant, Gaelio was fighting for his life. Gundam Barbatos, wielding its distinctive mace, wasted no time racing towards him, even as Gaelio's Schwalbe Graze peppered it with rifle rounds. Cursing, Gaelio quickly dodged to the side, spinning the Schwalbe to keep Barbatos in his sights. He stopped the Schwalbe a few degrees farther than necessary and squeezed the trigger, managing to get a few hits on the Gundam's side that slowed it down. Then he opened up the throttles on the Schwalbe's thrusters, aimed the lance at its side, and prepared to finish the job.

Barbatos felt no need to oblige the young Gjallarhorn officer.

An instant before the lance would've smashed through Barbatos side, the Gundam spun around and smashed its mace into the side of Gaelio's Schwalbe Graze, mangling the left arm. Then it boosted towards him at full speed, forcing Gaelio to retreat and gain some distance. Once again, the rifle barely slowed the Gundam down – it just came for Gaelio like a bat out of hell.

"You're not going to beat me that easily!" Gaelio growled, reversing course and boosting towards the Gundam.

It took Gaelio four hours and more retries than he cared to admit, but he _did_ eventually beat the Barbatos simulation. It just required taking so much damage that, after a real battle, the Schwalbe would probably scrapped immediately. But that was good enough for Gaelio – after all, if he could mostly win a simulated fight in a Schwalbe Graze, he would probably have a way easier time when he got the family Gundam out of the vault. Feeling pretty worn out, but satisfied, he pressed the button to open the hatch.

There was a whirring sound, an odd groan of metal, but no hatch opening.

Annoyed, Gaelio pressed the button again, with the same result. After three more failed attempts, he attempted to use the Schwalbe's communications system to reach anyone outside the hangar, but no one heard him. He was trapped in his mobile suit's cockpit… and he was discovering, to his growing anxiety, that he _really_ needed to take a leak.

Sure, he could use the flight suit's diaper, but Gaelio Bauduin took pride in the fact that he had never once done so. Part of that was the result of childhood teasing by his friend Carta Issue, but most of it was because no self-respecting adult would _ever_ allow themselves to do that. So he closed his eyes, started breathing in a slow, deliberate rhythm, and waited for someone to come to him.

After two hours of trance-like waiting, Gaelio's patience was rewarded.

"Uh, Major Bauduin, I brought you some-"

Gaelio's eyes snapped open as soon as he heard Ein's voice, and he quickly thumbed the mobile suit's speaker microphone. "Ein! Listen, I need you to open my cockpit hatch. I keep trying the button in here, but it's not working!"

"Yes, sir!" Ein nearly smashed a styrofoam container full of food into his chest, but he remembered his burden and stopped his salute in time to save his uniform. Carefully leaving the food by the door, he jumped up to the Schwalbe and thumbed the exterior hatch control. It too, failed, just like the one in Gaelio's cockpit.

What neither man knew was that a bad batch of lubricant had not only gotten past the quality control inspectors, but a tiny, _infinitesimal_ portion of that batch had been spared a recall and destruction notice due to a typographical error. One can of the stuff had been used on the hinge of the Schwalbe's hatch, where upon drying, it served as a binding agent, instead of providing dry lubrication.

"It's not working sir!"

"That's okay Ein, just get a mechanic in here to fix the problem," Gaelio said, keeping his voice as calm as possible. He was focusing so much energy on keeping his bladder under control that his legs fell asleep, and trying to move them was _very_ unpleasant.

To his credit, Ein got not one, but _all_ the mechanics to look at the problem. Unfortunately for Gaelio and his long-suffering bladder, there was no quick, easy solution. There was only cutting through the hinge with a torch, a process that would've been even more miserable for Gaelio, if not for the Schwalbe Graze's superb air conditioning system.

When the hatch finally opened, Gaelio briefly thanked all the mechanics, including the one that got him in this mess (and was very apologetic), then forced his legs to carry him a few meters to the closest bathroom. And once he was done, he didn't even really process the triumph of will he had just accomplished – he just stumbled to his quarters and fell face first onto his bed.


	10. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans is owned by Sunrise/Bandai. Mass Effect is owned by EA/Bioware.

* * *

Chapter 8

"Let's go over it one more time."

Vass rolled his eyes, but indulged Vorhess' paranoia as he shrugged into the chest piece of his hardsuit. He nodded as he began snapping the hard outer armor pieces into place around his arms. There was no denying that it had been years since he participated in an covert operation, never mind something of this magnitude, so he tolerated the Batarian's insistence on repeating equipment checks and going over the final phase of the plan.

"Alright," Vass said, sitting on the bed in his sparsely decorated quarters, one of the few perks of his position. Milena Dantius might've been an amoral businesswoman with no regard for life besides herself and a few chosen others, but she recognized that keeping crucial employees happy made them less likely to stab her in the back. If it weren't for the _Thrill Seeker_ 's limited amount of personal cabins, Vorhess would've likely gotten one of his own. "Are you _sure_ that it won't trip the trap now?"

"It's on diagnostic mode for the next fifteen minutes and won't receive the signal," Vorhess replied, activating his omni-tool. "My omni-tool _will_ though."

Vass sighed and pulled up his own omni-tool, scrolling through a list of files until he tapped on a seemingly random file. Vorhess' omni-tool began beeping immediately, while a green light began flashing. The Batarian nodded. "We're good so far."

"Excellent," Vass muttered as he snapped the arm plates into place. "Now, are the other arrangements complete?"

"Once you trip the trap, the control and sensor overrides will go onto active standby for two hours. Just use the same activation hot key on the bridge and they'll kick in." Vorhess picked up two squat cylinders that were only an inch or two thick. "These things should knock out everyone on the bridge in seconds."

"Excellent." Vass sat on the edge of his bed to put on the leg pieces, then looked up. "How did you get them out of the armory?"

His Batarian compatriot just laughed. "These are from my personal stash. I keep a few of these things around for when I go off-ship in rough and tumble areas. It's easier to get crooked cops to go easy on you when you just knock people unconscious."

"Well, I appreciate the sacrifice," Vass replied, securing his leg armor. "It'll be well worth it, should we succeed."

Vorhess raised an eyebrow. " _If_ we succeed."

"Better to assume that there's a chance we'll fail, no matter what we do," Vass replied. "If we assume the plan's going to succeed, we might miss tiny little variables that could change the outcome."

The Batarian didn't buy it, but simply shrugged as Vass got off his bed and headed to the door. "Good luck with your dinner date."

"It's _Milena_ 's date, not mine," the Salarian shot back with a smile. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

And with that, he effortlessly walked to the waiting shuttle; at this point, his higher brain functions could no longer exist and he'd still be able to do it on sheer muscle memory. He was the first passenger in, giving him plenty of time to observe Milena Dantius and Hastia Iallis, who was joining them on this trip, as they boarded the shuttle; their guards were noted, but were ultimately irrelevant. Even in the most dire of scenarios, he wouldn't have to directly face them.

A quick, routine shuttle trip later and they were aboard the _Hammerhead_ , where things definitely diverged from the norm. The usual suspects were there, namely Orga, Naze, and the usual guards, but there was one new addition: a brown haired, brown skinned human female in a tight red dress that showed an almost Asari level of cleavage. In fact, Vass almost swore he saw looks of envy from his Asari companions, but he might've been seeing things.

"Milena, Dr. Vass! It's a pleasure having you aboard again." Vass continued to be impressed by Naze's apparent sincerity. Keeping up such a façade when faced with such pressures was difficult, but he made it seem absurdly easy. He gestured to towards the woman. "This is my wife, Amida."

"It's such a pleasure to meet you," Dantius said, firmly shaking Amida's hand. "I'm not at all surprised to see that Naze married such a beautiful woman."

"He's always had good taste," Amida replied with a small smile, "except when it comes to liquor."

There was a polite smattering of laughter, but in a moment of unexpected unity, he and Orga just rolled their eyes.

"Milena," Naze said after Iallis was properly introduced, "you remember that I dinner offer we had to postpone?"

"Of course."

"Well, I've had my chefs make a meal worthy of the occasion," Naze continued, with a somewhat apologetic expression on his face. "The food isn't the best I've had, but it's the best I've had on a ship. If we were on Saisei, Mars, or Earth, we'd have the all the freshest ingredients available."

"Oh, that's fine," Iallis cut in. "After a year and a half of eating the same stuff, this will be a culinary revolution by comparison."

There was another smattering of laughter before the whole group began winding their way through the _Hammerhead_. Vass joined in the idle conversation on the way, but never let it fully occupy his attention. He kept his attention on Dantius and Iallis, watching their reactions. As far as he could tell, they suspected nothing… so far.

Their destination was a new compartment, roughly the same size as the room Naze usually met them in, and decorated in much the same way, with one major exception – the middle of the room was dominated by a long wooden table with accompanying chairs. The chairs were on rails, a subtle sign that the ship was a combat vessel – civilians rarely bothered to secure furniture on their private vessels.

As everyone settled into their seats, with Naze at the head of the table and Milena at the other end, various scantily clad women, all wearing white coats, blue shorts, and crop tops began laying out plates, glasses, and utensils. Vass was somewhat amused by how nonchalant the humans were about it, while his Asari companions were trying hard to _not_ treat the women like Asari maidens. But he couldn't pass up an opportunity to subtly needle Milena and throw her off balance – she'd be dead soon enough.

Once the women filled out, probably to get appetizers and drinks, Vass asked, "During the vaccination process, I noticed that your crew is exclusively women. Is there some reasoning behind that?"

Naze smiled. "Well, it wasn't like it was hard to find a lot of women with experience working in space. In fact, I met Amida _because_ I was looking to hire a mercenary with combat experience."

"Really? Do you go through phases like we do?" Iallis asked. The baffled expressions on the humans' faces led her to add, "We Asari generally go through three phases in life. The maiden stage, where we go out into the galaxy and do various jobs – such as mercenary work, the matron stage, where we settle down and raise families, and the matriarch stage, where we come sages and leaders."

"You could say humans go through something similar," Amida admitted as the other women returned with wine bottles and little blocks of meat and cheese. "But it mostly has to do with your job or how much money you have. If you're poor, you go where you can get work, and if you're rich, you can afford to start a family whenever you want."

"We've got white zinfandel, right?" Naze asked the serving girls. "I think our new friends would appreciate something a little sweeter."

"While I appreciate the sentiment," Milena said with a small smile on her face, "I think we can handle the best you've got."

Naze shrugged. "Alright, you heard her. Now, what were we talking about?"

"Your crew is all women," Vass replied as one of the women poured some wine into their glasses.

"Right," Naze nodded. "Did I mention that all the women on this ship are my wives?"

Milena, who'd been taking a sip of wine when he said that, started choking on her wine, forcing Iallis to slap her on the back a few times. What amused Vass to no end was Orga rolling his eyes when Naze shared that tidbit of information. He clearly knew about Naze's harem and how ridiculous it was, but kept his peace.

Vass, for his part, couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice as he asked, "I suppose this is another hold over from your Calamity War?"

"Apparently it is," Naze replied, once he was sure Milena was fine. "Or at least the legal precedent for it. I don't think anyone back then married as many people as I have."

The Asari politely nodded while sharing a glance usually reserved for when male Krogan boasted of their virility.

When the main course finally arrived, the conversation shifted towards the food (some cuts of meat from a creature called a cow, along with various vegetables) and its origin, Earth. Naze and Amida went on at great length about some place called Lanzarote, where they apparently did some business; Vass found that the wine barely numbed his senses enough to make this tolerable. His photographic memory, a blessing of the Salarian species, would ensure every bit of information would burn itself into his brain, whether he wanted it to or not.

Then came dessert – chocolate cake.

What started as a civilized conversation about the origin of chocolate quickly devolved into a grotesque spectacle. As soon as the Asari tasted the cake, they began shuddering and moaning in near orgasmic pleasure, to the point that all the non-Asari felt an uncomfortable amount of disgust and confusion. But Vass's brain was already plotting ways to use this newfound discovery to his advantage, even as Milena Dantius and Hastia Iallis raved about the chocolate.

"You know," he interjected, "it'd be a shame if our fellow officers couldn't partake in this _incredible_ delicacy."

"I _kkkkknnnnnnooooowwwww_ ," Iallis replied, wobbling a bit as she turned to face Dantius. "We should _totally_ bring this back for the rest of the girls."

Naze, to his continued credit, seemed to realize what the Salarian's angle was. "I could put that in a box for you…"

"That would be _greaaaaaaaattttt._ " To her credit, Dantius at least managed to sit still in her chair, even if she couldn't keep herself sounding professional. "Hastia, you and Vass should _definitely_ take this cake to the rest the girls. They'd _love_ it."

"That sounds like a splendid idea," the Salarian said, just _barely_ managing to keep his smile a polite one. "Although it sounds like _you_ won't be coming along with us, Captain."

"No, I have some… two on one negotiations to make with Naze and Amida here," Dantius replied, smiling just enough to not look sleazy.

 _This is far too easy,_ Vass thought, taking another sip of wine. _But it would be nice for everything to go according to plan for_ once.

* * *

Today was just like any other day for Fumitan Admoss. She was handling the communications station on the _Isaribi_ 's bridge, as usual. Eugene Sevenstark, the ship's XO and deputy boss of Tekkadan, was pacing on the upper level of the bridge, but that was a minor detail that didn't warrant much attention.

While Fumitan was supposed to be Kudelia's maid, she also served as the ship's communication officer, simply by virtue of having the proper training. The fact that no one on the crew thought it was odd that she'd know how to operate said equipment, in her estimation, boiled down to the fact that a group of child soldiers wouldn't think too hard about anything not related to survival. And so far, that had proven depressingly accurate.

In fact, there _was_ a reason she had the proper training to operate this equipment – she was secretly employed by Nobliss Gordon to ensure Kudelia arrived at a certain location at a certain time. Her access to the comm system was crucial, and so she'd been trained to use it, but under the assumption she'd be a relief operator. Now she was the main operator, which made things much more convenient, but meant she also had unforeseen responsibilities, like training Tekkadan children on how to use the equipment.

Another one was whether or not to update Nobliss Gordon on the alien business. Her orders had been very specific – unless Kudelia's safety was at extreme risk, she was _not_ to endanger her cover by making contact outside of scheduled check-ins. But she felt that the existence of aliens was something he would be interested in… and would probably penalize her for not mentioning it as soon as possible. She wrestled with what to do in her spare time, never finding an answer, just more reasons to put the decision off.

A beep from the console drew her out of her reverie. She looked at the console, and as soon she turned her head, Eugene was there, leaning over to look at the display.

"Is it Orga?" he asked.

"It is," she confirmed, slightly annoyed by the intrusion into her personal space. Not a bit of it showed as she tapped the speaker button.

"Hey, Boss, is it time?"

 _"It's time,"_ Orga confirmed. _"Are Akihiro and the others ready?"_

Eugene snorted. "Are you kidding me? They've been waiting for you to get back and get this thing started."

Orga chuckled. _"Yeah, well, I wasn't the one holding things up."_

"Lemme guess, Naze was trying to impress the blue chicks—"

 _"No, that wasn't it, but they_ were _part of the problem. I'll tell you all about it when this is over."_

"Deal." Eugene's expression turned serious. "Don't get yourself killed, Orga."

 _"Right, like you don't want my job,"_ Orga teased. Before Tekkadan's second in command could respond, he added, _"Don't worry. If everything works out, we'll be in and out without a problem."_

With that, Orga cut the connection.

"Goddamn it, Orga," Eugene growled, pulling away from Fumitan. "You just _had_ to be the cool guy again."

When Fumitan just looked at him, eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer, he added, "Believe me, you _don't_ want to know. Hell, _I_ wish I didn't know."

He plopped himself in the captain's chair, and left her to her thoughts, which were more conflicted than ever. But for some reason, she felt like things would be _better_ if Nobliss Gordon didn't know what was going on here…

* * *

Dr. Vass felt Hastia Iallis press up against his side, and for the fortieth time since he got the cake box, he rolled his eyes and mentally multiplied the first ten squares.

"Come on, Doc, just let me have a _sliver_ of a slice," the Asari officer begged. She was trembling a bit, a symptom suspiciously like withdrawal from narcotics.

When Vass first received the box, he read the omni-tool's translation of the labelling, which read DOUBLE CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE FROSTING. He had no idea if this "chocolate" was some sort of human narcotic that they had immunity to/tolerance for, or whether it was just a narcotic for Asari in such heavy concentrations. But he could do without the negative side effects, especially since there was no way to escape chocolate – if a human transport captain on the edge of their territory could access it, it was likely to be plentiful closer to their homeworld.

"No, Hastia," he said, gently patting her arm with his free hand. "The Captain said we should let the rest of the senior officers have a taste. And we're just a few minutes away from having that happen, so all _you_ need to do is wait."

Thankfully, the shuttle came to a stop a few seconds later, touching down in the hangar bay for the second since they made contact with the humans. There was a small crowd of crew members waiting to hear the latest gossip from the big dinner, but as soon as the hatch opened, Vass took Iallis' arm in his and politely pushed his way through them. He needed as much of that cake as possible intact, and if he stopped, half the Asari on the ship would stuffing their faces with it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to manhandle his charge into the elevator and get it moving before the guards explained the power of the cake.

They managed to make it the wardroom without incident; thankfully, Irissa and Calis were already waiting there. As he settled the cake box on the table, Irissa took one look at Iallis and asked, "What the fuck happened to her?"

"Rija, you just _have_ to try this!" Iallis motioned towards the cake. "It's _so_ good… Goddess knows how we lived without it!"

"Uh huh," Calis replied, reaching into a small cabinet and pulling out some plates. "What's so good about this… what's it called?"

"Chocolate cake," Vass offered as he pulled some utensils out of a wall mounted dispenser.

"It's _rich_ and _delicious_ and… and… I don't think there are _words_ to describe how good it is," Iallis leaned forward and pulled the top off the box. "Just _look_ at it!"

"It's just a brown fucking cake," Calis groused. "What's so special about it?"

"You've got to _taste_ it," Iallis explained. "Once it touches your tongue, you'll wonder how you ever lived without it."

Irissa raised an eyebrow and looked at Vass. "Is this true?"

He shrugged and moved over to the table, handing out the utensils. "I find to be quite delectable, but apparently it's not as good for Salarians as it is for Asari."

Calis served herself a piece of cake, then handed one to Irissa, deliberately ignoring Iallis, who was bouncing in her chair in anticipation. "By the way, where's Milena?"

"She's trying to get in a threesome with Naze and one of his wives," Iallis cut-in before Vass could explain, "or maybe she's going to fuck him and his entire crew."

"Uh huh." Irissa shot a look at Vass, who sighed.

"Naze Turbine's crew is all women and he's married to them all," the Salarian explained, moving over to the cabinets. He reached inside and pulled out the two grenades, which had some sort of Batarian food label on them. He found himself staring at them and wondered what the point was.

"Oh Goddess, Hastia wasn't kidding…" Calis moaned, before Vass recaptured her attention. "What'cha got there, Doc?"

"Vorhess wanted me to pick these up… whatever they are." He shrugged. "We're going to have a little celebration meal in my quarters."

Irissa, who'd just had her first bite of chocolate cake and was trembling uncontrollably, asked no one in particular, "We've had _food_ in there this whole time?"

"I don't fucking know, we never eat in here," Calis replied, shoving a large piece of cake into mouth. "Whatever it is, it _can't_ compare to this."

"I _told_ you," Iallis butted in, finally getting a chance to cut herself a new piece of cake. "If we know how to make this, we'll be the queens of Thessia! No, all the Asari worlds!"

"I'll just let myself out," Vass commented, activating his omni-tool on the way out. He tapped the file as soon as he entered the corridor; several button taps later, he was pumping the room full of nitrogen and locking the door. If everything worked according to plan, then the Asari would die quick, painless deaths while stuffing their faces full of the addictive Earth food. If the situation wasn't so dire, it would've been bizarrely comedic.

Not even five steps out of the wardroom, he was confronted by at least a half dozen Asari, all maidens. They all looked at him with large, pleading eyes, as though he were their father and they were all waiting for gifts from him. It took all of his willpower to avoid sighing and to put a confused smile on his face.

"Now, what can I do you ladies?"

"Well, Doctor," one of them, who he assumed to be the leader, spoke up. "We were wondering… is there _any_ chance of us getting "chocolate cake" stuff? We know you brought some for the senior staff and…"

Vass put on his best sad sigh. "Unfortunately, they've locked themselves in the wardroom with the cake, so no."

Grumbled complaints and profanities escaped the maidens' lips.

"But the human space station may have some, so if you're patient for little while longer, you should be able to get your own chocolate cake."

The maidens turned to each other and began talking about how great an idea that was, with occasional profuse thanks for the suggestion. As soon as they were out of Vass's way, he headed up to the bridge, stopping by an emergency supply box in a small, out of the way alcove for a breathing mask. After a quick check to see no one was coming or going on the same path, he put it on and primed the grenades. The Salarian took a few breaths to steel himself; so much could go wrong here, and he was already in too deep to back out.

Old STG training reasserted itself, his mind racing ahead, plotting contingencies. By the time he opened the bridge hatch, he already knew where to toss the first grenade for optimal gas dispersion. The handful of crew members situated around the galaxy map barely had time to register his presence before he raced passed them, tossing the second grenade down towards the cockpit. By the time he looked back, the first grenade's payload had already filled half the bridge with green mist and unconscious bodies.

A quick check of the bridge later, Vass locked it down and began securing his prisoners, dragging them to the periphery of the compartment. He took stock of the situation: _No fatalities, 100% incapacitation, complete control of the ship achieved. Not bad for an out of practice ex-spy who never really specialized in this sort of thing._ Once all the crew members were out of the way, he crawled under the galaxy map stations, pulling open control panels and sighing at the huge, heavy objects within.

 _Now all I need is for the humans to show up, and the final phase can begin._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Well, that took longer than I wanted, and I'm not 100% happy with how it turned out. But hey, at least I delivered on the people dying thing!

Also, because people (rightly) asked what the hell happened to Fumitan, I figured I should acknowledge that she **exists** and her really complicated position on the ship.

The chocolate thing is a reference to the Mass Effect/XCOM crossover Psi Effect, and helped me get out of the writers' block that was holding up this chapter. It's kinda pushing the suspension of disbelief, but hey, I figure this fic is where Tekkadan and company get all the good luck that Season 2 stole from them.


	11. Chapter 9

Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans is owned by Sunrise/Bandai, and Mass Effect is owned by Bioware/EA.

* * *

Chapter 9

"You sure this is a good idea?"

Orga glanced back at Akihiro. About a dozen Tekkadan members, all in spacesuits and carrying assault rifles, were packed in the passenger compartment of a Turbines launch. Orga, also wearing a spacesuit, was in the cramped cockpit with the Turbines pilot; he couldn't remember her name – there were simply too many Turbines to memorize. He turned back to the what lay beyond the cockpit canopy – the imposing, alien sight that was the _Thrill Seeker_.

"It's our only move," he slowly replied, trying to find the right way to explain things to his men. "Dr. Vass has been calling the shots and making the deals from the beginning. We – Tekkadan and Teiwaz – have to hold up our end of the bargain. He tells us how to save humanity, and we do the dirty work."

"Hey, can't be worse than facing Gjallarhorn, right?" Shino interjected, trying to lighten the serious atmosphere.

Orga shrugged.

A chorus of muttered "Damn it, Shino"s filled the passenger compartment as the launch decelerated and came alongside the alien ship's airlock. The outer door was open, and Orga took a long, hard look at it before committing to the next step.

"Alright, we're going in." He looked over at the pilot, who looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. "If you don't hear back from us in half an hour, get back to the _Hammerhead_ and tell everyone to run for it."

The girl grimaced and nodded. "Got it. Good luck guys."

"Thanks." The launch's airlock cycled open and Orga took point, pausing only to accept a pistol from Ride. The Tekkadan crew squeezed inside the airlock, sealing it behind them, and waited for it to depressurize. The outer door snapped open in silence, the gaping maw of the other airlock directly ahead of them. Silently, by unconscious accord, they all leaped across to the alien ship at the same time, landing in a slightly looser formation than they started with.

The _Thrill Seeker_ 's outer door abruptly snapped shut, and a bright light shone from a spot low on the bulkhead to Orga's right. His breath pounded in his ears as the light slowly moved up, paused near the ceiling, then began moving back down. The cycle repeated three more times, then the light shut off and the inner door cycled open.

Communicating only with hand signals, Orga split the group in three; two teams would burst from the sides of the airlock, while he would take a team and secure the middle. Holding their weapons at low ready, they charged out of the airlock, only to find everyone but Vass already neutralized. The Salarian doctor, for his part, simply stood across from the airlock, hands up, feet shoulder width apart.

"Very competently done," Vass commented, lowering his hands. "Not as fast as some STG or Spectre teams I've seen, but quite extraordinary for young men your age."

"Thanks," Orga replied, putting the pistol in his suit's belt. "So, what do you need us to do?"

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you." Vass leaned over to look at the rest of the Tekkadan personnel. "It requires some of your stronger men, though."

"Shino, Akihiro, get over here." As soon as they approached, Vass motioned for them to follow him towards the galaxy map platform.

"As you can see, gentlemen," the Salarian said, gesturing towards the open panels, "there are some pieces of hardware I require your assistance with."

"You want us to chuck them out the door?" Shino asked, leaning over to take a look at them.

"No, nothing so crass. I do need them removed, but for safe keeping aboard one of your ships, at least until I can arrange permanent storage."

Akihiro grunted. "What are they?"

"The long range navigational database and its backups."

"You _sure_ you don't want us to chuck them out the door?" Shino joked.

"That wouldn't be an effective way of hiding them," the Salarian replied, glancing over at Orga.

"Right, an object in space moves in a straight line unless something happens to it," Orga said, sensing this was a test of some sort. Luckily, he'd been taught a few basics about physics, just in case Third Group had to fight in space. "All it takes is someone figuring out which direction you threw it, and knowing how fast a person can throw something in space, and they'll be able to figure out where to look for it."

"Exactly," Vass confirmed. "Not only that, but this information will be invaluable to your people in the future. But for right now, this needs to be hard to find, otherwise my crewmates might try to get back home – and that would endanger your people."

Akihiro and Shino looked at Orga, who nodded. The two got to work pulling the dark, cube shaped objects out of their sockets and hauling them back to the launch, while the rest stood on guard, policing the unconscious crew members. Orga noticed this, and moved close to Vass to keep their conversation private.

"So, are they…?"

"They're fine," the Salarian assured him. "Merely unconscious and probably going to wake up soon. Once they do, I'll tell the crew about our new circumstances."

 _And what then?_ , Orga asked himself. When he took over CGS, he knew everyone under in Third Group would at least follow his orders until he gave them a reason _not_ to, and he knew they needed work in order to pay the bills. But he had no idea what _Vass_ wanted – or even if he really cared about what happened to his shipmates. The alien was certainly willing to help humanity and make deals, but beyond that, he was unfathomable.

 _You know what, I'll let Teiwaz's Old Man sort this out._

Ride walked over, and after a quick glance at Vass, asked, "Are we done here, boss? There's nothing to do."

"Actually," Vass gently added, "I suspect Mr. Barriston would appreciate having some witnesses to confirm that I am upholding my end of the deal."

Orga grimaced, but nodded. "Good point. We'll stick around until then, I guess."

It wasn't too long a wait, but by the time the first bridge crew members began stirring, Shino and Akihiro had already taken all the navigational database components, to the launch, then offloaded them on the _Hammerhead_ , and come back. The Tekkadan members' boredom quickly evaporated as the unconscious aliens began waking up and panicking at the sight of humans on their ship. Since the _Thrill Seeker_ 's bridge crew wasn't wearing hard suits, none of their speech was translated into anything the humans could understand. It didn't matter; the body language, tone, and volume of their speech made their feelings quite clear.

Vass, to his credit, tried to calm them down, but it was a failed effort. Instead, he took to the galaxy map platform, activated his omni-tool, and began speaking. His voice reverberated through every compartment of the ship, inescapable by all who were still living.

"Friends, fellow shipmates, this is Dr. Vass. I have an announcement of tremendous import to us all." Vass waited until the panicking crewmembers quieted down before continuing. "I regret to inform you that our captain and several of the senior officers were nowhere near the upstanding individuals we all thought they were."

This, in fact, was not true – everybody knew that the senior officers got up to some shady dealings, but they were the kind of shady dealings that benefited the crew as a whole, so they accepted them.

"Unfortunately, Captain Dantius agreed to a deal to provide the Batarian Hegemony with a new source of slaves, if one could be found. I know – this seems completely unbelievable… but I have proof." With a theatrical flourish, Vass tapped a few buttons and played Dantius' damning words for the entire crew. "As hard as it was for me to believe this, I knew I had to act. Therefore, when we encountered the humans, I secretly contacted them and asked for their help in preventing Captain Dantius' foul scheme."

The Salarian paused and took a breath. "Captain Dantius, First Officer Irissa, Security Officer Calis, and Science Officer Iallis are dead. The human organization Teiwaz has offered us safe harbor and protection, on the condition that the ship's long range navigational databases were destroyed. As the humans can attest, they have been disposed of. We cannot return to Citadel space, because it would be impossible to guarantee that humanity's existence would be kept secret. This will have to be our new home, at least until humanity has the ability to protect itself from the Batarians."

Before Orga could pull Vass aside and confront him on his lies, all hell broke loose.

A cacophony of shouting filled the CIC; it took Orga a long second to realize some of it wasn't from the restrained aliens in the room, but was being pumped in through the speakers. It was a tidal wave of fear, outrage, confusion, desperation, and disbelief, and even though Vass remained calm, cool, and collected, nothing he did shrunk the wave. Orga looked around: the restrained bridge crew were on the verge of breaking their bonds, his men were unsure what to do. Someone – he couldn't tell who it was managed to shout over the noise, "What do we do?"

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Orga shouted back, and as he turned to head up the galaxy map platform, he saw the phantom of Mikazuki, the one that haunted him in every moment of doubt and uncertainty.

 _What the hell am I supposed to do?_

The apparition just stared at Orga, exactly like Mikazuki would do. An odd sensation, like a vice slowly tightening on his head, overwhelmed Orga.

 _You find a way to keep everyone alive._

 _How the hell am I going to do that?!_ Orga screamed in his mind as the pressure increased bit by bit. _Vass is losing control, everyone's going nuts, and for all I know, we're all going to die!_

The phantom Mikazuki was unmoved. _Then you'll find a way to do it._

For a split second, Orga's head felt like it was about to explode in the fist of angry god. He closed his eyes, silently begging for release… then, in an instant, he knew what he had to do.

He bounded toward the top of the platform, grabbed Vass by the shoulders, and asked, "If I start talking, will they understand me?"

* * *

Milena Dantius awoke in a dark room, breathing hard and fast, and completely unaware of how or why she was there. She slowly, painfully, got to her feet, and stumbled around, trying to figure out the boundaries of where she was. There were two small windows on two of the walls, and two control panels on the walls between the ones with the windows, but she was having a hard time figuring out what that meant.

It took her several seconds to realize that she was wearing _some_ clothes – just her underwear, not anything beyond that. She struggled to remember where she was before this. It took her nearly half a minute to figure out that she'd been in bed with Naze Turbine and Amida Arca, and she struggled to think of a reason she'd be somewhere like this. The best answer she came up was being super drunk and locking herself in a room.

Suddenly, she heard tapping on the window behind her – she whirled around, and dearly regretted it as she almost stumbled to deck. When she managed to steady herself against the door, spots began forming before her eyes. Milena blinked furiously, clearing some of them away, and saw Naze and Amida on the other side of the door.

"Hey… Naze," she said slowly, feeling tired beyond all belief. "Get… get me out of here."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Milena." Even through the haze in her mind, Milena heard the hardened edge in his voice.

"Wh… why not?"

"We know you were planning on selling our species to the Batarians."

It took her a few seconds to realize what he said. Then her knees wobbled as the weight of the words hit her. She took a few deep breaths, even though they didn't do much to ease the fatigue overwhelming her, then stared Naze in the eye.

"H- How did you know?"

Naze's reply was as icy as his eyes. "Dr. Vass told us."

"That backstabbing… no good… son of a bitch." Milena's voice grew hoarser with every word, and she leaned on the door for support. "What… the hell are you… doing to me?"

"Oh, nothing really," Amida interjected. "It's just you and carbon dioxide in there."

Milena's head began pounding as her brain began putting the pieces together. "You're… just going to… leave me here to die?"

"Yes." Naze's face betrayed no sympathy. "Dr. Vass already took care of your co-conspirators. Once you're gone, the threat to humanity is gone. The _Thrill Seeker_ will mysteriously disappear from the galactic scene, and no one will know about us until _we_ decide to seek out your people."

"You'll never… get away… with this," Milena growled, not even sure Naze could hear her now. "My sisters… will make sure… you pay."

"No, they won't. We already have a cover story ready – a tragic accident deprives the _Thrill Seeker_ of her senior officers and strands her far from Citadel space, cut off from the rest of the galaxy until humanity reaches the stars." The corners of Naze's mouth quirked up. "It's quite the tearjerker."

Milena leaned her head on the glass and laughed until she began coughing. "Goddess… I thought… you were nothing… nothing but backwater rubes. But you're… just as coldblooded as… a backroom deal maker on Illium."

Any and all good humor on Naze's face evaporated. "When it comes to the safety of my family, there's nothing I won't do. And believe me, compared to some people out there, I'm being merciful."

Milena couldn't find the strength to reply or keep on her feet. As she slid down the door, the world began turning into a blurred gray mass; as she lay there on the deck, the gray turned into black. It was an all consuming darkness that first nibbled away at the edges of her vision and awareness, and as she faded into unconsciousness, it swallowed every last scrap of her being.

* * *

 _It's too goddamn early in the morning for this,_ Husker thought as he sipped his carajillo – a cup of black coffee mixed with rum. The jolt of caffeine and alcohol to his system sharpened his senses, pushing the fog of unfinished sleep out of his mind. He almost wished he hadn't chosen the drink, because Jastley Dominokols was practically foaming at the mouth.

"What the hell was that brat thinking! The deal was _clear_ – the ship and crew belong to _Teiwaz_ , not Tekkadan!"

Half the assembled Teiwaz big wigs looked like they were on the verge of nodding off, the other half was grumbling and agreeing with Dominokols, and only the Old Man looked like he was calm _and_ aware of what was going on around him. Husker sighed and picked up the tablet in front of him, speed reading his way through the transcript of the message they'd gotten from Tekkadan and the Turbines. Once he reached the end, he drained his cup – the drink's name was derived from the Spanish word for _courage_ , and he definitely needed some now.

"Jastley, did you actually _read_ the report we got?" he asked, interrupting another diatribe about how impertinent Orga Itsuka was.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dominokols' full fury was being brought to bear on him, but Husker pressed on.

"It says here that the crew was on the verge of, and I'm quoting, _rioting and probably tearing us and Dr. Vass apart_." Husker tossed the tablet on the table. "I'm thinking maybe we shouldn't be asking for a strip of this kid's hide – we should be asking _what would've happened if he DIDN'T convince them to join Tekkadan?_ "

Husker rarely raised his voice; McMurdo Barriston's raised eyebrow belied the room's curiosity about the man's behavior. Even Dominokols was quiet for once.

"Best case scenario," Husker continued, keeping his tone and volume even. "The crew would've beat the shit out of Orga, his men, and Vass, then tossed them in the launch and fly off, never to be seen again. _Worst case_ , we're all dead because some panicking dumbass accidentally fires off that thing's guns or smashes it into Saisei."

There were plenty of nervous glances among the assembled businessmen, now realizing how close they came to disaster.

"To your point, Jastley, maybe the kid _did_ overstep his bounds." Husker shrugged. "Problem is, he was there and none of _us_ were. That makes it _his_ problem to solve by default."

"Alright, alright," Dominokols conceded, "maybe the kid was in a tight spot. But he still should've stuck to the deal – the crew should be _Teiwaz_."

"Come on, man," someone muttered. "The kid's been a Teiwaz subsidiary for like, a week or two. He's a rookie making rookie mistakes."

"That's true," Husker admitted. "You can't expect a rookie to make a hard sell for Teiwaz if he doesn't even know what Teiwaz as a whole _is_ and what it can do for these aliens. What is he going to tell them, that we might have jobs for them? That we'll give them money so they'll stay? Teiwaz's name and reputation doesn't mean _shit_ to people from _other planets_."

Husker stood up and went over to a set of cups and jug of water on a cart against the wall, and poured himself a glass of water. After taking a few sips, he continued speaking.

"Now, I don't know this kid, but from what I've heard about this Tekkadan of his, he probably fed those aliens something like, 'we're just like you, we got nothing but we're gonna make our way to the top and you're welcome to join us.' And that's exactly what they needed to hear." He emphasized that by raising his cup. "Why? Because it's something they can buy into, and it gives them _stakes_ in the game. Now they got something to lose by leaving – a guaranteed place at the table, somewhere where they're always welcome, even if it's not as good as what we would've given them."

In the growing silence, Husker couldn't help notice the sly grin on the Old Man's face. It was almost as if he'd planned it this way – and Husker was fine with being a pawn in the Old Man's games. He knew where he stood with McMurdo Barriston; through the years, they had built up and proven their loyalty to each other.

No, the problem wasn't McMurdo Barriston. It was the fact that the leaders of Teiwaz had remarkably little loyalty to each other, and Jastley Dominokols' ever-present need for control. Teiwaz's second in command was a stickler for having everything run through proper channels, for everything to be approved by him _and_ the Old Man. He never interfered with anything the Old Man did himself, of course; that would be an unforgiveable insult, and potentially deadly. But he would complain about it, and that showed the hidden truth: Jastley Dominokols only projected an image of strength and depended on power and control to maintain it.

McMurdo Barriston, on the other hand, projected strength through his confidence in his gambles and his willingness to let subordinates handle things on their own.

As if to prove that point, the Old Man stood up and declared, "It seems we've all come to an understanding of the present situation. I understand there are some unresolved issues, but I'll deal with those personally. As for the rest of you, I suggest you get some sleep. We'll be quite busy in the coming days."

With that, he left the room, slowly followed by the rest of the Teiwaz executives. Jastley Dominokols took the time to glare at Husker, its message loud and clear – embarrassing Dominokols that way demanded recompense. In return, Husker simply made a show of slowly drinking his water. He did not, and could not, ignore the threat; that could get him killed, sooner or later. But he didn't need to rise to the bait, and he certainly didn't need to give Jastley Dominokols even the slightest bit of satisfaction.

 _I hope you can make this work, kid_ , Husker thought as he left the boardroom. _Otherwise, we might be getting it in the neck._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Yeah, it's back! I guess the new year gave me the push to get this out, because I've had the basic idea for how to resolve the stuff from last chapter for a while now. I guess it's a bit like reading the Event Horizon novelization (yes, that exists): taking a break and getting away from things for a while makes it easier to get through something. Also, **maybe** the Toonami dub airing getting into the mobile armor arc has something to do with it.

Also, yeah, I know, all four bad Asari die in basically the same way (asphyxiation). There's a reason for that.

Hopefully I'll put out more chapters on a semi-regular basis, but who knows - I got some real life stuff coming up that'll be a real time sink.


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A tingle ran down McMurdo Barriston's spine as his launch approached the _Thrill Seeker_ 's hangar bay. After so many years of living a safe, easy life, he found himself missing the mystery, danger, and excitement that the alien ship seemed to embody. Back when he'd been rising up the ranks, those had been everyday acquaintances; now they were nothing but fond memories, like many of his friends and compatriots from those days.

The bay door lowered and the launch flew in like a fish into an eager shark's mouth. A slight shudder coursed through the hull as the artificial gravity asserted its hold on the craft. Within a few seconds, the launch set down with the slightest _thud_ , a testament to the pilot's skill and experience. But then, McMurdo Barriston only settled for the best.

As soon as the hangar pressurized, Barriston stepped through the airlock and onto the hangar deck, closely followed by his bodyguard and an aide with a large duffel bag on his shoulder. The room was impressively large for the ship it was on, but also crowded beyond belief. Two shuttles hung from cradles on the ceiling above, and shoved against the port bulkhead was what looked like an APC with a tank cannon on it. The rest of the room was filled with crates of various sizes, likely full of supplies.

A door at the back of the room opened; Naze Turbine stepped out, hat in hand, and smiled. "Welcome aboard. Impressive, isn't it?"

"I'll withhold judgment for now," Barriston demurred, as he walked up to the younger man. "Ask me again after I take the grand tour."

"I think you'll like what you'll find," Naze replied, gesturing for him to enter the elevator. "It certainly puts a lot of our ships to shame."

"Is that so?" The Old Man asked.

"Well, the creature comforts are nothing to write home about, but that's outweighed by just about everything else." Naze tapped on one of the haptic interfaces to send the elevator on its way. "Like that, for instance. It's a hologram that feels like a solid object thanks to sound waves you can feel, but not hear."

Barriston's eyebrows went up. "Impressive."

The elevator stopped two decks up and opened into the CIC, where Orga, Biscuit Griffon, and a large assembly of the crew were waiting. Barriston stepped out and surveyed the lot of them; some of the aliens were harder to read than others, but it seemed like curiosity and anxiety were the prevalent emotions. That was hardly a surprise, given what had happened in the last 48 hours.

"Welcome aboard, sir." Orga was being absurdly formal, which probably wasn't setting the crew's mind at ease. But the Old Man could overlook that for now; better to have the boy sweat a little before letting him down gently.

"Now _this_ is a welcome," he said, smiling and shaking Orga's hand; it was surprisingly dry, all things considered. Biscuit's wasn't, but McMurdo Barriston had plenty of experience with drying his hand on the sly. He paused when he came to the blue alien woman – an Asari, he told himself, trying to internalize this new part of his reality – to Biscuit's left. "And who might you be?"

"C-captain Nevara Char," she replied. Unsurprisingly, she didn't seem comfortable with the rank and position; she would have to deal with it.

He took her hand and kissed it. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Nevara looked flustered and embarrassed by the praise, which was the point – better that than her lingering in her discomfort. She immediately tried to deflect attention by introducing her executive officer, who he greeted in the same way.

Barriston smiled and put his hands together. "Now, while I'm flattered by all the attention, I'm sure you all have better things to do than humor an old man. Now Captain, we have some business to attend to. You come along too, Orga."

"Of course. Right this way." Nevara led the humans over to the wardroom. Dr. Vass was already there, tapping away on his omni-tool as if no one had ever died there.

"Ah, perfect," Barriston said, putting his hand out. "I was hoping to see you, Doctor."

Vass stood and shook the human's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Barriston. Naze and Orga have been nothing but effusive in their praise."

"Really?" he replied, mock shock in his voice.

"Most certainly."

"Well, that certainly makes this more appropriate." Barriston gestured to the man with the duffel bag, who set it on the table and unzipped it. Inside was a pan with a plastic cover, plates, cups, napkins, utensils, and a bottle of wine. As the humans and aliens sat down, the aide lifted the cover, revealing a steaming hot lasagna. Before he could cut into it, Vass held up a hand.

"A moment, please. I would like the make sure it is safe for our consumption," he said, gesturing at himself and Nevara.

Barriston looked at his aide and nodded. The man stepped back, allowing the Salarian to scan the dish with his omni-tool.

"Perfectly safe." Vass sat back down and shared a glance with Naze. "After seeing the unexpected reaction Asari have to chocolate cake, I felt it prudent to do a spectrographic analysis to figure out the cause. I've narrowed it down to what appear to be additives or preservatives – apparently, their breakdown in the bloodstream causes the pleasure center of the Asari brain to go into overdrive. I've assigned my assistants to do a more detailed analysis to identify specific chemicals that cause this effect."

Barriston nodded in approval. He preferred his employees take initiative and handle things on their own – within reason, of course.

After each person had been served their food and drink, Barriston raised his cup and said, "A toast, to the bright future awaiting us all."

The others returned the gesture before they began eating. After Naze took his first bite, he commented, "You broke out the good stuff, Old Man."

"Of course." Seeing the lack of comprehension on the faces of the Martian boys and the aliens, he added, "This is made with real beef, cheese, tomato paste, and pasta, imported all the way from Earth. It doesn't cost as much as a mobile suit, but it comes damn close."

Orga set his fork down; his face was a storm of troubles. "I want to-"

"Shut up and eat your lasagna," Barriston said with a hint of a smile, before following his own order. "What you did was exactly what the situation demanded. The failure was on the parts of Dr. Vass, Naze, and myself – we should've anticipated that there'd be trouble when the truth was revealed, and we should've prepared you to deal with it."

Relief washed over the young man's face, along with more than a little confusion.

"Now, with regards to the ship—"

"The ship belongs to Teiwaz," Orga automatically answered.

Barriston chuckled and sipped his wine. "Unlike some in Teiwaz, I fully understand nuances like that… and since Tekkadan _is_ Teiwaz, albeit through the Turbines, that distinction is irrelevant anyway. No, the issue with the ship is that it cannot remain here at Saisei, or any known Teiwaz facility."

Naze set down his fork and lasagna. "You can't possibly be talking about…"

Barriston nodded, then looked everyone else at the table in the eye. "What I am about to say cannot be shared with _anyone_ who does not already know. This is a secret you are expected to take to the grave, assuming that it doesn't become public knowledge before then."

Orga and Biscuit gulped and looked at each other; Nevara looked anxious and twiddled her thumbs, while Vass calmly continued eating his lasagna. None of this surprised McMurdo Barriston; aside from Vass, whose actions and reactions pointed to him being involved in either crime or espionage, none of them were the sort to deal in secrets on a regular basis. Oh, they probably had _some_ experience at subterfuge, like most people, but he doubted they had ever been charged with keeping a secret of this magnitude before.

"Teiwaz has a secret research and development facility in asteroid belt, hidden from everyone – including Gjallarhorn. We call it the Black Site." Barriston took another bite of his lasagna. "Naze knows about it because he has personally delivered sensitive material to and from there. You are learning about it because, for the moment, it's safer for everyone if the _Thrill Seeker_ remains there, at least until we publicly reveal that aliens exist."

"And when will that be?" Nevara asked, more curious than anything else. "And why will hiding the ship do anything?"

The Old Man smiled. "Good questions. I'll answer your second question first. The fact of the matter is that Gjallarhorn has had Saisei under near constant surveillance for decades now. They know the _Thrill Seeker_ is here and what it is. However, because the nearest Gjallarhorn patrol is well over a month away, whether or not Gjallarhorn depends on how long the ship stays here."

"If the _Thrill Seeker_ leaves before they can get here, then Gjallarhorn won't bother sending them?" Biscuit asked, before shrinking in his seat when everyone's attention fell on him.

"Exactly!" Barriston was pleased by the young man's insight. "Gjallarhorn's power out here is weak. Aside from occasional requests for shore leave or quick repairs, they've never had a situation that justified interfering in our business or coming in force. But the _Thrill Seeker_ staying her too long _will_ justify an investigation, because Gjallarhorn would need to see if this was a potential threat."

"So, if we hide the ship, what's stopping Gjallarhorn from just telling everyone that aliens have been here?" Orga asked.

"Gjallarhorn doesn't want to rock the boat," Naze interjected. "They like things to be as stable as possible, and no one knows for sure how mankind as a whole will react to the news. Plus they won't have much evidence – just sensor data that anyone can say they faked."

Barriston nodded. "For those reasons, Gjallarhorn won't do anything if _we_ don't do anything to endanger the status quo. But by hiding the ship in the Black Site, we not only keep the status quo going and begin learning about the new technologies we've gotten, but Tekkadan has a trump card if it gets into trouble with Gjallarhorn."

"So, we're hostages?" Nevara's voice dripped with heavy sarcasm, even through the translator.

"No, more like political shields," Naze replied. "With the cover story we've created, Gjallarhorn would face a _massive_ backlash if they attacked a ship with peaceful alien explorers that were tragically stranded in our solar system."

"Of course, that would only happen if there were some of us aboard the _Isaribi_ ," Vass added.

"I was thinking about it," Orga admitted, "but I'm not sure if anyone would volunteer to come with us."

"I would be happy to join you on your mission to Earth," Vass interjected. "At the very least, it would give me a chance to familiarize myself with human medical equipment."

Barriston frowned. "You could do that just as well at the Black Site."

"True," Vass conceded, "but then I'd be deprived of the opportunity to do research into your fascinating cybernetics."

There was a pause as the humans digested what the Salarian said.

"You do realize that Alaya-Vijnana research is illegal, right?" Naze felt the need to point out.

"I'm sure we can work around that," Vass replied. "Claim it's research into mitigating the negative effects of it – which may wind up to be true, given the lack of development the system has had."

Barriston mulled it over. Tekkadan was certainly a promising young group, even before the aliens joined their number, but the specter of brain damage was ever present among them. Getting rid of that would make them a safer long term bet, along with improving their lives in the long run. And there _was_ the possibility that some spinoff of the research could be marketable. "I'll allow it, as long as you stick to that story if anyone starts looking into the research."

"Of course."

The Teiwaz boss nodded and stroked his chin. "Now… Would be possible for me to get a tour of this wonderful vessel?"

* * *

"Man, Eugene, you had to be there! Everybody was going nuts and – are you listening to me?"

Fumitan Admoss tried (and failed) to block out the conversation going on behind her on the practically deserted bridge of the _Isaribi_. As usual, she was at the communications station, handling the meager amount of messages being exchanged between Saisei, the _Hammerhead_ , the _Isaribi_ , and the _Thrill Seeker_. Lately, most of the traffic focused on the upcoming resupply of both human ships and came infrequently enough that Fumitan had a great deal of time for introspection.

As always, the question of whether or not to fill in Nobliss Gordon loomed in a dark corner of her mind. It had been easier to avoid it when the aliens were merely visitors, but now that they were permanent fixtures in the solar system, all of her arguments for and against telling him were dust. It was time for new ones to fill their place.

"Not now, Shino," muttered Eugene Sevenstark, somewhere near the captain's chair. "I'm double checking the supply lists."

"Man, when did you get so serious?"

"When Orga and Biscuit went back over to the _Thrill Seeker_ and stuck _me_ with this job."

 _How long would he keep the knowledge secret? How long would it take before pirates and Gjallarhorn come for us?_ She asked herself. The answer to the first was simple – as long as it benefited him. Perhaps they would be lucky enough to get to Dort before he revealed that fact – delivering Kudelia and the aliens would simplify things. But rumors of aliens arriving in the system could be used to stoke the fires of military build up and conflict, as well as line Gordon's coffers.

Of course, if Tekkadan was mentioned in the rumors, then not only the _Isaribi_ would be a target, but the base on Mars as well. Literally anyone could besiege it and demand Tekkadan hand over the aliens and/or Kudelia, and they'd be powerless to stop it. A small part of her mind said that it was only a problem if the alien ship wasn't capable of fighting, but as far as she _knew_ , it couldn't. If it was, that information wasn't reaching her… yet.

There were two choices – neither of them easy.

"So, you in on the bet?"

"What are talking about?"

"Oh man, you don't know?" Shino chuckled. "We've got a bet going on what Mikazuki will do when he sees an alien for the first time!"

"Really? Why didn't anyone tell me?!"

"Because you're being all 'serious, deputy boss man'!"

"Right… Hey, Fumitan!"

She turned towards the two teenagers. "Yes?"

Eugene held up the tablet computer he'd been working on. "Let Saisei know the supply list looks good."

"Very well." With that, she turned back to the console and began typing out the message. She paused before sending it; it was time to make her choice, for better or worse. This time, like many other times, the arguments against sending the message began overpowering the ones for it. Outwardly, she seemed as cool, calm, and collected as she always did, but inside, she felt cold, uncertain, and lost.

The message to Saisei went through without issue, and Fumitan found herself right back where she started.

* * *

As he followed Captain Nevara Char through the innards of the _Thrill Seeker_ , McMurdo Barriston found himself quietly impressed by Orga and Naze's efforts in easing the crew through the transition. Wherever they went, they made time to for crew members with issues or concerns, along with giving reassuring words when needed. While Barriston was not at all put out to handle a few of them himself, he was encouraged by what he was seeing, and it helped curb his misgivings about allowing aliens on the _Isaribi_.

Of course, he didn't expect to be traveling down a maintenance passageway on this tour, but the ship's new captain seemed to think that showing him everything he was getting was a good idea. He had no problem with the idea, he just wished he wasn't wearing his fancy clothes. As his hand brushed against a slightly sticky pipe, he wondered how much money it would take the clean them.

At the end of the passage was a wide platform with a cutout in the middle; a curved object sat in the cutout and appeared to extend through the forward bulkhead. A few consoles were mounted on hand rails around the cutout, connected to the device with thick bundles of wire; they reminded Barriston of veins for some reason. A Batarian was already there, tapping away on a few consoles.

"Gentlemen, Chief Engineer Vorhess," Nevara announced.

The humans introduced themselves in turn, and Vorhess gestured to the object. "Gentlemen, this is probably the single most powerful weapon you've ever seen. It's Reaper destroyer particle cannon, capable of accelerating particles to 2% the speed of light. It can slice straight through anything inside of 1,000 kilometers."

"Is that… good?" Orga asked, scrunching his face in confusion.

"Well, I mean…" Vorhess paused. "Yeah, I keep forgetting you guys don't know about this sort of stuff. So, basically, this gun is all around better than all but the _really_ cutting edge particle beams they stick on ships this size. It runs cooler, hits harder, and has longer range than the standard beams you could buy."

Naze raised his hand. "You said this was a 'Reaper' particle cannon. Is that a brand or something else?"

"50,000 years ago, a race called the Protheans came under attack by a race of AI controlled starships called the Reapers," Nevara explained. "There's a lot of debate on the exact details, but we do know the Protheans and Reapers wiped each other out. Some of their ships are still out in deep space, so people try to find and salvage their tech, because we've only started approaching their level of technology in the last three hundred years or so."

McMurdo Barriston leaned on the rail around the particle cannon and carefully examined the device. It was not merely the object that extended through the forward bulkhead. Like an iceberg, that was merely the tip; in fact, the entire platform was suspended above the bulk of the weapon. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up; the entire thing was a dark mass that radiated sinister intent. The curved, organic lines that contrasted with the geometric lines of the ship around them only made it more imposing.

"This thing's pretty old – does it even work?" Orga asked.

"Sure does. As soon as Milena got it delivered and installed at a Geth-Quarian arms dealership, we fueled it up and blasted the hell out of a little ice ball on the edge of some random system," Vorhess replied.

"Very interesting," Barriston said, straightening up. "But I think we've seen enough for now."

Nevara nodded. "Alright, let's move on. Would you mind joining us, chief?"

Vorhess shrugged. "Sure, why not. I'm done with everything down here."

They proceeded to file out of the room, with Barriston and Vorhess near the back of the group. As they proceeded through the passageway, Vorhess gestured for the human to hang back. He did so warily; in this confined space, the older man would be at a disadvantage if the alien had a grievance he wanted to take out on a human.

"Dr. Vass wanted you to know that the quantum entanglement communicator is offline, but rigged to look like it's online," Vorhess whispered.

Barriston relaxed a little; anyone who worked with the Salarian was less likely to be a threat to his person. "Good to know. I'll be having some people come over to inspect the device; I expect it to be operational."

"Will do."

The tour continued its winding path through the ship, eventually stopping through engineering. Even as Vorhess explained the problems with the _Thrill Seeker_ 's primary reactor, McMurdo Barriston was thinking ahead to ways to mitigate the weakness of his latest acquisition. There was one obvious route that seemed very appealing, but it was hard to pull off, at least without making some other acquisitions in the near future.

Eventually, the group found themselves in the hangar bay, where Vorhess extoled the virtues of the ship's shuttles. "These babies can get you to any solar system within 12 light-years in a day, plus they come with a full set of kinetic barriers, two light cannons for busting up comets or raiders, and the smoothest handling this side of Citadel space."

Barriston glanced at Orga, who was staring at the shuttles. "Let me guess, you want to take one of them with you."

"I want to take both," the younger man replied, looking Teiwaz's boss right in the eye. "I figure I'll need them when we get to Earth, to get Kudelia to Arbrau's capital, but in the meantime, I can have them start training some of the younger kids in how to fly these things."

"Not a bad idea, but it doesn't justify taking both," the Old Man replied. "However, if you promise to report any salvageable ship sized Ahab reactors you find, I'll be more than willing to let you take them both."

"Alright," Orga agreed, but Barriston could read the confusion on the young man's face. That was just as well; either the boy would figure it out on his own, or Barriston could explain it to him later, when there was less on his plate.

"Now," the Old Man added, gesturing towards the APC, "what about _that_?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Vorhess' lack of enthusiasm was refreshingly blunt. "That's a Czenki 4203 APC, with all terrain capabilities, a 155mm cannon, full kinetic barriers and jump jets, and a broken structural frame because _someone_ took it joy riding on a mountainous planetoid and smashed it into the ground."

"Is it salvageable?"

"Well," Vorhess rubbed his chin, "technically, yes. You see, the wheels, axles, suspension, and jump jets are all built into a platform that the cabin and everything else sits on. The platform's the only thing that's broken, so if you can build a new one, you _should_ be able to get it to work again."

"Interesting." Barriston noticed Orga's fixation on the gun. "Yes, I think that would make a good addition to your Gundam too."

"Nice to know you're on the same page, Old Man," Orga replied with a grin.

Vorhess immediately picked up on the unspoken request for more information. "That gun's pretty standard – variable ammunition types, runs on a heat sink, two to three round per minute rate of fire – dependent on environmental cooling, basically blows any unshielded vehicles or personnel to bits, the usual."

"What kind of ammo can you fire?" Orga asked, stepping back to take a better look at the length of the weapon.

"Standard blocks of metal, sledgehammer rounds, incendiary rounds, disruptor rounds, armor piercing rounds – you name it, you can fire it."

"No armor piercing rounds," Naze interjected. "We don't know how this will do against mobile suits, but if Gjallarhorn finds out you have a weapon that punch through nanolaminate armor, they won't show you any mercy."

"Okay, well, I'd say sledgehammer rounds are your next best bet. They're designed to spread the momentum of the round across a larger area, so it has less of a chance to penetrate armor, but it'll still cause a hell of a lot of internal damage."

"Use those," Barriston commanded. "How soon can you get this gun removed and ready for transport to Saisei."

"About two to three hours." Vorhess pulled up some information on his omni-tool. "The gun's designed to be easily removed for maintenance, so that's no problem. Putting together a safe towing setup is going to take a bit of time though."

"Fine." Barriston turned towards Orga. "You know this means Mikazuki and Barbatos won't be leaving with you."

"Yeah, I know." Orga shrugged. "I didn't think Barbatos would be ready anyway. Maybe they got a lot done while we were out here, but I don't think it was enough to meet our deadline."

Barriston chuckled; the boy was certainly perceptive sometimes. "Don't worry about it. I already have a Kutan III booster set aside for Barbatos."

Naze whistled. "One of those will definitely catch up with us when we pass through the asteroid belt."

"Exactly." The Old Man gestured towards the APC's cannon. "Something tells me you'll be better off having this when you get there."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Isn't alien biochemistry grand? It sure makes things interesting for our heroes, and it keeps the whole unintended consequences thing going on.

Coming up with the specs for the Reaper cannon was pretty hard, mostly because Mass Effect is one of those franchises with canonically long ranges, but I didn't want to make it **too** OP. I figure 1000 kilometers is in a sweet spot for Reaper Destroyers, which seem to be the only fighting ships between the Oculus and the Sovereign class Reapers, making them capable of fighting Citadel ships at longer ranges than they'd normally want to engage at. To get a mental image of the range, 500 kilometers (half the range) is the distance from New York City to the border of Virginia and North Carolina.


	13. Chapter 11

Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Bandai/Sunrise; Mass Effect belongs to EA/Bioware.

* * *

Chapter 11

Orga stood below the stripped frame of the Barbatos and fought off a wave of déjà vu. It'd been a few days, but it seemed like the technicians were working on the exact same things in the exact same ways as his last visit. The only real change was the APC's gun, stripped from its turret and exposed to the world, tucked into a corner of the bay.

He felt a slight breeze to his right and spotted Yukinojo and Mikazuki approaching him. Shaking his head, he said, "Man, the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"You're getting philosophical in your old age, Orga," Yukinojo said, a small smile on his face. Mikazuki just glanced at both men in what Orga construed as confusion.

"Yeah, well, I definitely feel a lot older than before I left." Orga sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Did you get the info on the new gear we got for Barbatos?"

"I did," Yukinojo confirmed, frowning a bit. "We shouldn't have any problems building a protective casing for it, since there's plenty of armor plate lying around. The big problem is getting it to work with Barbatos' fire control and motion compensation systems. Even with the Alaya-Vijnana, Mikazuki might not be able to use it safely – just firing it might knock Barbatos off course, assuming it doesn't break anything else."

"Don't worry about it. I can handle it." Mikazuki's usual bland expression belied the confidence in his words.

Orga smiled. "Yeah, well, don't give the old man a hard time about it. Once you guys get back on the _Isaribi_ , we can get that all sorted out."

"So…" Yukinojo said slowly, casting a few sideways glances, "I guess you've convinced a few of our… newest members to join us for this mission."

"About thirty. Most are fighters, but we got a few support people – a doctor and a nurse, a few mechanics, a pair of shuttle pilots, and some tech people." Orga shrugged. "Basically, people who weren't super important."

Yukinojo took a deep breath. "You sure this won't be a problem?"

"Well, it's already a bit of a problem," Orga admitted. "A lot of them are women, so we had to clear out some of the quarters we packed with supplies to give them somewhere to sleep."

"Right, it wouldn't a great idea to have them bunk with the rest of the kids."

"Exactly."

Mikazuki raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Anyway," Orga continued, putting his hands in his pockets, "we also have to make sure the food is all safe for them to eat, and whole bunch of other things… Eugene, Biscuit, and I have been spending a ton of time on this, so hopefully things settle down after we leave."

"Shouldn't you be on the _Isaribi_ , then?" Mikazuki asked. "You leave in a few hours."

"Yeah, well, wouldn't be right for me to go without checking in on you guys," Orga replied.

Yukinojo smiled. "Don't worry about us, Orga. We're in good hands here on Saisei."

"I'm not worried about you two being here on Saisei." Orga had a crooked smile on his face. "I'm just wondering if that old heart of yours can take riding on that booster of theirs."

* * *

Three hours later, Orga found himself on the _Isaribi_ 's bridge, _wishing_ he could crack a joke or two. Every station was manned for departure, which was fine, but Biscuit and Eugene looked seconds away from falling asleep on their feet. Dark bags were forming under their eyes, and every so often, they wobbled a bit as they stood around the floor display on the upper level of the bridge.

A handful of aliens were up there too, representing their compatriots. Dr. Vass wasn't among them; supposedly he was getting acquainted with the medical equipment, but Orga figured he was trying to lower his profile. As far as he could tell, Dr. Vass had some grudging respect for standing up for his principles, but most of the _Thrill Seeker_ 's crew would rather see him get shot off into space for stranding them here. It was harsh, but fair, at least as Orga saw it, although he had to admit that he (and the rest of humanity) owed Vass big time.

Rala T'Pani was one of the three on the bridge, wearing a new jacket freshly emblazoned with the Tekkadan logo, representing the Asari. Malon Raeka, a junior comm specialist, represented the Salarians. And Edil Pazness was one of four Batarians aboard, a full 40 percent of the Batarians aboard the _Thrill Seeker_. Raeka and Pazness weren't as overtly enthusiastic about being Tekkadan as Rala seemed to be, but they were at least polite enough to tie bandanas with the Tekkadan logo to their upper arms.

"So, we're heading out?" Rala asked.

"Yup," Orga replied, tapping on the controls for the floor display. "We'll get the details on our course from the Turbines tomorrow, but according to Naze, the route we're taking should get us to Earth in two months."

"Two _months_?" Raeka burst out. "Our shuttles could do this trip in _hours_."

"Look, Tekkadan's first job is to get a VIP to Earth to speak in front of some politicians." Orga sighed. "Normally, that'd be a piece of cake, but this job started with our base on Mars getting attacked by mobile suits. The longer we're in space and out of sight, the safer Kudelia – our VIP – is. And once we get there, we'll probably need the equipment we've got aboard _this_ ship. Then there's the fact that our _second_ job is to deliver some minerals to the Dort colonies near Earth. We can't use the _Thrill Seeker_ for that without revealing our big secret – you guys – so we're stuck with going slow."

"He's got you there," Pazness muttered to the frustrated Salarian.

"You know, this course takes you through your system's asteroid belt," Rala observed. "Why not go above or below the plane of the ecliptic and avoid the hassle of going through it?"

Orga's face was a blank mask of incomprehension. "Plane of the ecliptic?"

"It's where the planets orbit the sun," Biscuit explained, rubbing his eyes. "Naze explained to me that there are Gjallarhorn sensors and occasional patrols there to catch pirates, so everyone cuts through the asteroid belt instead."

"Gjallarhorn? What's that?" Raeka asked.

"Bad guys who want Kudelia dead." Eugene stifled a yawn. "They attacked us back on Mars."

"And the closer we get to Earth, the more likely we're going to run into them," Orga added. He turned towards the aliens. "Don't worry, we'll get you up to speed on what's going on on Earth."

They nodded, but seemed slightly unconvinced.

"Anyway, it'll take us about a week to get to the edge of the asteroid belt. We'll be rendezvousing with Barbatos there."

Rala raised her hand. "That's your super special mobile suit thing, right? I thought it was still being worked on. How's it going to be able to get to us so fast?"

"Teiwaz is giving us a Kutan III booster," Biscuit explained. "It's fast enough to make the trip in a few hours."

"Maybe we should strap the engines from that thing onto the ship," Raeka muttered.

"Don't be an ass, Malon. You _know_ it's easier to accelerate something small than something big," the Asari pilot shot back.

"Boss, Saisei Control says the _Hammerhead_ is ready for launch," Fumitan announced from the communication console, jack-knifing the growing tension.

"Tell them we're ready too." Orga stepped down on to the lower deck for a few minutes, handling the business of departure before returning. "Anyway, now that we're leaving, the _Thrill Seeker_ is only going to be at Saisei for a few more days."

"Lemme guess, you've got some secret base where you'll pick it apart," Pazness replied.

Orga grimaced and shared a look with Biscuit, who just shrugged. "More or less. Can't really talk about it though."

"So much for that whole "be part of the Tekkadan family" thing," Raeka snidely commented. "For all we know, they'll be on the dissection table while we're crawling towards Earth."

"Hey, watch your mouth, you-"

Orga put up a hand to silence Eugene and locked eyes with the Salarian. "Teiwaz's Old Man _personally_ assured me that they'd be safe. If anything happens to them, I'll be leading the charge to kick down his door and get them back."

He took a few steps toward Raeka, who shrank back and cringed. "Is that understood?"

"Yes" was the sullen reply.

"Now," Orga continued, "it's going to be a long trip, so I suggest you all settle in and make yourselves at home. Biscuit, Eugene – you've done enough lately; get some sleep."

Eugene started to protest, then yawned. "Alright, alright. I'm going."

"Yeah, see you later." Biscuit followed Eugene off the bridge, just a bit ahead of the aliens.

As Orga settled into the captain's chair he caught Pazness chuckle and say to Raeka, "He sure busted your balls, didn't he?"

He allowed himself a small smile. Word about how he handled Raeka would spread among the aliens, and whatever their opinion of him, they'd at least know he had a spine. And that would give them the confidence to follow him whenever he made a hard call.

 _Damn, when did I start thinking like this?_ Orga thought a moment, and it came back to him. Not the exact moment when his thought processes changed, but the trigger for the change. It was back when he and Vass had had their little conversation in the elevator, in the midst of his existential turmoil.

 _What did he say? That I was "a leader worthy of the title". Guess I'm trying to live up to that._

Orga stared into the depths of space, lit only by the unblinking, yet ephemeral stars.

 _Fine. I may be changing, but as long as Tekkadan gets where we want to go, it's alright by me._

* * *

Three days later, Nevara Char found herself staring at a holographic representation of the solar system. Ever since the long range navigational records were removed, this had replaced the galaxy map – after all, they weren't likely to leave this system for years. Possibly not even in the lifespan of the Batarian crew members, a sobering thought for an Asari like her. At three times the length of a Salarian lifespan, it was still a not insignificant amount of time for an Asari. It was about the amount of time required to get four _really_ difficult degrees from prestigious universities on Thessia.

"Ah, there you are, Captain Char. Are you ready to begin?"

Nevara turned to see Mr. Chen, the Teiwaz member assigned to get the _Thrill Seeker_ to the Black Site. She had no idea if Chen was his given or family name; all he had given her as background was that his ancestors came from a place called "Vietnam" on Earth and that he was a senior Teiwaz employee. She wasn't even sure of his role in the larger Teiwaz organization – certainly it couldn't _just_ be getting ships to this one base?

"About as ready as we'll ever be." She contacted the helmsman and rattled off a set of instructions for their course. "Standard cruise burn."

The _Thrill Seeker_ 's sublight engines came to life in a silent flare of nuclear fury. Unlike in her days among the Turian fleet, the destroyer burned only helium 3 and hydrogen in her engines. For a long range mission, far from resupply infrastructure, it made sense to use easily obtainable fuel. But there was a carefully husbanded supply of anti-protons aboard, ready for use if the situation demanded higher acceleration.

Mr. Chen had asked, in great depth and detail, about the ship's sublight speed, acceleration, and maneuvering capabilities, and Nevara had been reluctant to reveal that information without cause. But he'd been forthcoming on why he needed the information – it was all part of the second phase of Teiwaz's grand ruse. The first phase was the departure of the _Hammerhead_ and _Isaribi_ days earlier, which hid the link between Teiwaz, Tekkadan, and the _Thrill Seeker_.

The second phase entailed a 45 minute cruise along a course intended to fool Gjallarhorn into thinking the ship was clearing the solar system before heading to Alpha Centauri. Nevara wasn't so sure about the logic behind it; supposedly Gjallarhorn had surveillance satellites near Saisei, but the _Thrill Seeker_ hadn't been able to distinguish them from the other satellites in the area. Still, it was better to humor the Teiwaz man, mostly because she didn't want the blame if something went wrong.

Once the second phase was complete, the third phase began. The _Thrill Seeker_ changed vector, pointing her bow towards a point in the asteroid belt, while maintaining speed for a few hours. Halfway between where she changed course and her destination, she began decelerating down to a few thousandths of a kilometer per second. By the time she arrived at the edge of the asteroid belt, she was moving no faster than a car through a tightly packed neighborhood.

"So, what now?" Nevara tapped her foot, bored and more than a little cranky at the whole drawn out process.

"Phase 4," Mr. Chen replied, glancing at his watch. "Any minute now, mobile workers will arrive to guide us in."

"Picking up a dozen small objects on a low speed approach vector," the sensor operator announced. "Looks like they're using some kind of optical signal for communication."

Mr. Chen went to the operator's station and observed the visual feed.

"It's them," he confirmed, before explaining how to reply back.

"Looks like they're going to attach themselves to the hull," the sensor operator observed, right before a series of dull _thunks_ reverberated throughout the ship.

"They'll be handling the maneuvers from here on out," Mr. Chen explained.

"I bet my helmsman is twice the pilot any of your mobile worker pilots are," Nevara shot back.

Mr. Chen let the comment roll right off him. "It's not a matter of skill, it's a matter of minimizing the amount of activity in the area. We paid a lot of money to sabotage Gjallarhorn's long range observation of the area, but you firing your thrusters might produce too big a signature to be ignored. That's why we use mobile workers to guide all our ships in – their thrusters are too small to be picked up at long range."

She shrugged. "Whatever you say."

After half an hour, the _Thrill Seeker_ settled into the hangar built into one end of a nondescript, oblong asteroid, indistinguishable from any other in the area. Shedding its mobile worker guides like fleas, the alien ship drifted into the gentle grasp of articulated docking clamps under one last bit of inertia. Throughout the hangar bay, workers, young and old, found themselves staring in awe at the bird-like vessel – and the greatest secret in human history – now in their care.

In the CIC, Mr. Chen brought his hands together and smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Black Site."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** You may be thinking, "Didn't you say that you wouldn't be able to write as often?" Funny thing - turns out I had an extra week before things turned extra hectic. So I wrote this to wrap up the first contact/immediate aftermath stuff and get on to the Brewers arc in the next chapter. Plus I figured we needed to have Mikazuki show up again before he gets his big action scene.

I thought about actually making a known asteroid into the Black Site, but it's hard to figure out their positions relative to Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and each other, plus a bunch of the larger ones probably got blown up in the Calamity War. I figure Ceres _isn't_ it, mostly because it's too big and too likely to be a mid-way resupply spot/colony between Mars and Jupiter.


	14. Chapter 12

Mass Effect is owned by EA/Bioware. Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans is owned by Bandai/Sunrise.

* * *

Chapter 12

"Specialist Major Bauduin, Specialist Major Fareed – _Lord_ Bauduin wishes to speak with you."

Gaelio Bauduin's face lit up as he spotted his father's assistant round the corner. "Dikembe! It's good to see you!"

"And both of you as well," he replied, motioning for them to follow him.

"How have things been in our absence?" McGillis asked as they walked down the corridor leading to his father's office.

Balewa shrugged. "Much the same as they've ever been."

McGillis said nothing, but Gaelio knew he was frustrated. They were both in Gjallarhorn's Regulatory Bureau out of a sense that there were deep seated problems within the organization. Corruption, nepotism, favoritism, bigotry, and whole slew of other issues were festering under the façade Gjallarhorn presented to the public. Gaelio and McGillis had earned a reputation for being tough but fair and thorough investigators, which had garnered them high rank at a young age. But both knew it was their status as heirs to the Seven Stars allowed it – anyone from a less prestigious background would've probably faced career ending retaliation long before they could accomplish anything.

"So, any idea what this is about?" Gaelio was well aware of his father's assistant's background; he'd briefly looked at a summary of his service record several years earlier. That had only been necessary because the man was so tight-lipped; talking to him accomplished almost nothing.

"It must be discussed in private." Balewa paused as they arrived at an elevator. "It has nothing to do with family matters."

Gaelio nodded in appreciation as they stepped into the elevator. The first thing that had come to his mind was some sort of issue relating McGillis' engagement to Almiria, his younger sister. While he personally disagreed with announcing that sort of thing while the girl was just _nine_ , Gaelio knew it could've been far worse – she could've been engaged to Iok Kujan, for one thing. At least he could trust McGillis to treat her like a lady; Iok would find a way bungle that while loudly proclaiming how chivalrous he was.

Gaelio and McGillis also shared a personal disdain for Iok Kujan, who was several years their junior and outranked them by several orders of magnitude, mostly because his father had died and he took his place among the Seven Stars. While they were all combat trained, and Iok supposedly had sortied a few times, Iok's boisterous personality and near total lack of field experience made him a joke of a leader. The most positive thing either man could say about Iok was that he hadn't caused some embarrassment or catastrophe yet.

The elevator rose up one level and they stepped out into a functionally identical hallway. Gaelio hated the way every floor of this part of Vingolf looked the same; the only way to know what floor you were on was seeing the little number painted on the walls next to the elevators. Even some bland art work on the walls would help break up the monotony.

The trio entered Gallus' office, and immediately, Gaelio appreciated his father's efforts at decorating the space. It felt _better_ to be here, as opposed to Iznario Fareed's office, which they'd just left. There was a warmth and humanity that was lacking in the elder Fareed's domain.

Of course, when Gaelio had asked McGillis what he'd do with such an office, his answer was typically McGillis: "I would've built it smaller."

Gallus Bauduin got off the couch he was sitting on and heartily embraced Gaelio in a bear hug. "Gaelio, my boy! How was Mars?"

"It was interesting," he admitted, as his father let go and shook hands with McGillis. "Could've been better."

Gallus raised an eyebrow as he sat down. "Oh? How's that?"

Gaelio scratched the back of his head. "I, uh, nearly hit some little girls while driving through a back road. They just popped up of nowhere, and I managed to avoid hitting them, but then their brother showed up and his friend picked me up and choked me."

"The girls' grandmother managed to defuse the situation," McGillis added. "Unfortunately, I had to part with a set of chocolates I was planning to give to Almiria, but it was peacefully resolved."

"Well, aside from the fact that the boy who choked me is piloting a Gundam and working for the mercenaries escorting Kudelia Aina Bernstein to Earth."

"Hmmm." Gallus picked up two tablets on the coffee table in front of him and handed them to the younger men. "This is connected to your work on Mars."

Gaelio found himself staring at some pictures of spaceships in space, trying to figure out where his father was going with this.

"One of the ships belongs to Tekkadan, a name you two should be very familiar with." Now that Gaelio thought about it, the reddish assault carrier _did_ look familiar. "The one next to it is the _Hammerhead_ , flagship of Teiwaz's transport division, run by the Turbines."

"What about the third one?" McGillis asked.

"Ah, that one is a mystery." Gallus smiled. "No one is quite sure what it is."

"How crazy would it be if it was aliens?" Gaelio's tone made it clear how seriously he took the possibility – which was not at all.

Gallus merely shrugged, which unsettled Gaelio to no end.

"There are several other possibilities," McGillis pointed out. "The shape does seem reminiscent of some space use mobile armors. It could also be a pre-Calamity War spacecraft of some kind. Perhaps even some kind of Teiwaz prototype."

Gallus stroked his beard. "I admit, I had not considered the possibility of it being a mobile armor. But it's far more likely to be a ship, since there's footage showing shuttles going between the ships, plus it has shown no signs of hostility."

"That doesn't necessarily rule out a mobile armor, especially if it was constructed _after_ the Calamity War." McGillis frowned. "There has always been the possibility Gjallarhorn failed to destroy them all during the war. After 300 years, there's no telling how sophisticated its intelligence might be, nor its abilities. For all we know, the mobile armor could be disguising itself as a spaceship, alien or not, and constructed a fake crew to interact with humans and lull them into a false sense of security."

"Uh, I've got a question," Gaelio interjected, trying to ignore his now sweaty palms. "Why don't we just send a ship or two from the Outer Sphere patrol to see what's going on?"

"I would've recommended that, but none of these three ships is near Saisei anymore." Gallus leaned back on his couch. "Tekkadan and the Turbines seem to be heading towards Earth together, while the unknown ship, whatever it is, headed off in a different direction. The few people who know about this in Deep Space Telemetry say it's heading towards Alpha Centauri."

There was a subtle shift of McGillis' eyes that said he didn't fully believe that, but he said nothing of the sort. "I see. What would you like us to do?"

The corners of Gallus' mouth tweaked up a bit. "Always to the point. Very well – I'm sure the two of you have made some contacts during your investigation on Mars. See what you can find out about this, then write a preliminary report, something I can present to the rest of the Seven Stars."

"Couldn't you have your Deep Space Telemetry people do this?" Gaelio asked, in an off-hand manner that belied the growing discomfort he felt.

"Oh, I certainly intend to have them do their own analysis, but your," Gallus motioned towards both majors, "investigational skills are well known, and you bring fresh perspectives to the matter. Where you disagree with their analysis is would be as informative as where you agree."

"I see." McGillis closed his eyes and a slight smile appeared on his face. "Then we are at your service."

Gaelio summoned an inner reserve of strength he didn't know he needed, adding, "Don't worry Dad, you can count on us."

"Excellent." Gallus clasped his hands together. "Now, I'm sure you're both tired of seeing nothing but corridors, so get yourselves home and relax after your long trip."

The younger men said their goodbyes and left the office, heading back down the bland, featureless corridor and into the elevator. As it began speeding down towards the base of Vingolf's tower, Gaelio turned to McGillis. "It's just one thing after another, isn't it?"

McGillis played with a stray lock of his blonde hair. "It's certainly an… _interesting_ turn, one that no one could have predicted. The fact that Tekkadan is involved makes it all the more fascinating."

"Don't tell me you _really_ think it's aliens?"

McGillis looked at Gaelio and the corners of his mouth pulled up. "I'm not sure what to believe, but I intend to find out what exactly is going on."

"Well, I guess that's fair," Gaelio said with a shrug that carried more confidence than he felt. Things seemed oddly off kilter, and he wasn't exactly sure why. _It's not like a ridiculous thing like a conspiracy between Tekkadan, Teiwaz, and_ aliens _is anywhere close to being reality._

"That said, I wonder if I can use this as an excuse to avoid the upcoming banquet." McGillis _hated_ going to them, even though he was polite enough to not to make a big issue out of it.

Gaelio grimaced. "I wish. _I_ won't be getting out of it, that's for sure, especially if Almiria has to go…"

McGillis' expression hardened. "I had hoped father wouldn't force her to participate… If she's going, then I should go as well, for her sake."

A sudden surge of brotherly comradery coursed through Gaelio. He laid a friendly hand on McGillis' shoulder and the two men locked eyes. For a moment, they were united in a common cause that transcended all other concerns. "Thanks."

McGillis smiled. "It's the least I can do for my "big brother.""

Gaelio buried his face in his hand and groaned. "I _told you_ not to call me that!"

* * *

Aboard the _Isaribi_ , the first week was a grueling learning marathon for all involved. Neither side was adequately prepared for their circumstances, and there were random flares of tension throughout the week. The first one came from the younger children constantly asking what was wrong with the Salarians' chests. Others came from unexpected cultural clashes and logistical hurdles, like the fact that unless a non-human was wearing a visor, they couldn't read any human text without scanning it with an omni-tool for translation. Some were purely personality conflicts.

Working through them was a group effort, requiring compromises from both sides. Throughout it all, Dr. Vass remained elusive, only offering advice when absolutely necessary. In that vacuum, Pazness and Rala found themselves becoming spokesmen for the alien members of the crew; Raeka was marginalized, but served as a bellwether for issues. Orga, Eugene, Biscuit, Chad, and – surprisingly – Akihiro spread out among the crew and worked to keep heads cool and fists from flying, and all the while, Kudelia tried to bridge the gap by teaching the aliens how to read English.

By the end of the week, things were beginning to congeal into a new normal for all involved. Aliens and humans were mingling in the mess hall, working together on various day-to-day tasks, and even sparring with each other in the gym.

Down in the mess hall, Rala and her sister Treia were sitting with Pazness, poking at the Woolton pies on their trays.

"So, what've you been up to?" Rala asked Treia, scooping up a spoonful of pie.

"That Yamagi kid was showing me and Hish the guts of the cockpits in those mobile worker things." Treia placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. "Get this – they basically yanked a mobile worker cockpit and shoved it inside a 300 year old mobile suit… and it _worked_."

"What _isn't_ hundreds of years old here?" Pazness interjected. "For all we know, _this_ ship is three hundred years old – the design sure seems to be, at least from what I've heard."

"What's the problem with that?" Rala shot back. "Plenty of stuff in Citadel space is _thousands_ of years old."

"I dunno," Pazness admitted. "Maybe it's that it feels weird that there doesn't seem to be anything _new_ out here."

"Yamagi told me the mobile suit they've got aboard right now – they call it a Graze – is new." Treia shrugged. "I didn't ask him _how_ new. Poor kid was having a hard enough time keeping up with all our questions about how the cockpit electronics."

Rala frowned. "What's up with _that_?"

"Gotta know how to work with the fire control systems." Treia scooped up some of her pie. "So, what about you, Paz. Got any interesting stories?"

The Batarian chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "Spent an hour working out with Akihiro and wound up trading exercise tips."

"Really?" Rala raised her eyebrows. "Quite a few of the girls have been keeping an eye on him."

"No shit." Pazness picked up a spoonful of pie and pointed it at the Asari. "Why do you think all the Asari got the fancy quarters, while we get to bunk with the kids."

Treia put on an exaggerated Thessian high culture accent. "Because we're princesses who deserve the best?"

They all had hearty laugh at that.

"Yeah, I can get why our new captain did that," Rala said. "Things might've gotten _really_ awkward right away, especially since some of the things these kids say is just – wow."

"Well, that's what kids get up to when they don't have family to take care of or things to do," the Batarian noted. "All that free energy's gotta go _somewhere_ , right?"

"Ugh." Treia buried her face in her hands. "Why did you put it that way?"

"He's not _wrong_ ," Rala replied. "For that matter, do _any_ of these kids have living relatives?"

"I think there's one or two in Tekkadan," Pazness answered, keeping the details to himself. "I _think_ Kudelia's parents are alive, from what I've heard."

Treia took a quick look around, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "I feel kinda bad about talking about this, since… you know, everyone else either has no family or will never see them again."

"Yeah," Rala replied, casting a glance at Pazness. "You don't seem all that bothered, though."

"Well, I did the whole "gotta leave my family behind" thing years ago."

Treia frowned. "How sad or messed up is this story?"

"Not too bad." Pazness took another bite of pie. "You see, I was a dumbass kid on some mid-level world in the Hegemony. I swallowed all the propaganda like a varren on a baited hook, but I lucked out and managed to get a job working security at the estate of a high-caste family. Turned out it was where they shoved a particularly troublesome son to keep him from causing scandals."

"I get the feeling I know where this is going," Rala muttered.

"Maybe." Pazness paused, staring off into the middle distance. "Anyway, the kid treated everyone like shit – didn't matter if you were hired or a slave, he expected you to do whatever the hell he wanted, no matter how messed up it was. Our pay was mostly hush money. He also had a nasty habit of killing slaves for no reason at all – luckily, I never had to clean up those messes, but it was so often and extreme that we figured it was a matter of time before he started offing _us_.

"So here I was, a young dumb punk dealing with all this bullshit, just trying to get through two years of working for this guy so I could parlay that into a way to get a less shit job. I gotta do rounds in and around the slave areas every few hours, and boy, were they underfed. I don't know why, maybe the shitbag had a red sand habit that ate most of the budget for feeding them or just didn't give a shit, but things got so bad the kids were sneaking into estate's food supply and stealing the stuff closest to expiration. And they had the bad luck of getting caught on my patrol."

He took a sip of his drink to keep his throat from drying out.

"I had two choices – let them go or grab them, report 'em, and leave them to that psycho's mercies, so I decided to let them go with a warning that they needed to be more careful. And that was fine; I bumped into them maybe three more times over the next year, and just gave them the same warning. Then one day, I catch them, but right before I can give them the warning, the shitbag arrives."

Rala and Treia leaned forward in horrified anticipation.

"So the guy goes 'What do we have here?' and I make a big show of taking the food and looking at it. I say 'Looks like some food that's about to expire,' and the guy starts manhandling one of the kids. Then I mention that it's a problem that solves itself – just feed the slaves the expiring food, which wasn't happening because the people running the pantry gave as little of a shit as I did. The guy goes 'Who the fuck do you think you are?' and starts beating the shit out of _me_."

The Asari just sat there in silent, horrified anticipation.

"I'm getting beat up, and I'm not sure what to do, because he's my boss and hitting him causes _me_ all sorts of problems. But it turns out it doesn't matter, because the kids tackle him from behind and one of them smashes a big old can of something or other on his head." Pazness shook his head in disbelief. "It's crazy, huh? I really didn't do much of anything for those kids, but they but themselves on the line for me. Of course, I couldn't appreciate it at the time, because I was panicking and trying to figure out what to do. Then it got _really_ crazy."

"How can this story get any crazier?" Rala asked.

"Just you wait. Now, after telling the kids to make themselves scarce, I had to do some fast talking when I reported this. I told the guy in the security office that I got jumped by some hobo, who knocked out the client when he stumbled onto the fight, then the hobo ran away. He got a search going, plus sent some guys to check on me and our shitbag boss." The Batarian took another sip of his drink. "This is when things started spiraling out of control. They checked me over, nothing but a few bruises – fine. Some of the senior guys pick up the shitbag by his arms and legs – weird, but alright. Somebody goes off and comes back with rope – things are starting to ring alarm bells. Tying him up and hanging him from a tree so he can be a punching bag – what the hell is this?!"

"What'd you do?" Treia's voice was nothing more than a hushed croak.

"Well, me and the security guys who weren't in on it were just looking at each other, trying to figure out what to do. Eventually, we went back inside the house to work up a plan to get out of there before things blew up in our face. One guy says he knows a guy who can get us smuggled off the planet, so all we need is a ride there and we'll be safe. Turns out a deliver driver showed up earlier and hadn't left, so we bust into a safe and get some untraceable credits, all while news spreads about what's going on." He shook his head. "Until then, I hadn't realized how many people straight up _hated_ that shitbag. They were pouring out the building to get their chance to pay him back for what he did to them…"

Pazness' voice faded off as he lost himself in the moment. Then he coughed and continued his tale.

"Anyway, we manage to talk the driver into taking us to the spaceport, but then somebody runs past us, screaming about how we're all fucked. Turns out, in twenty minutes, some of the shitbag's dad's goons are stopping by for a check-in, and when they find out what's been happening, well, getting out alive is going to take some fast talking." He took a deep breath. "Now, the handful of us that've been trying to escape are scattered all over the estate, trying to gather stuff before our big escape. I was back by the slave pens when I got that bit of news, so I did the only thing I could – opened the doors, yelled at them to get out, and pointed them to some hills where rebels were rumored to be, and ran away like a coward."

An uncomfortable silence descended on the table.

A few seconds later, Rala asked, "Did any of them make it?

"I saw about half of them get out of the slave quarters." Pazness kept his eyes down towards the table. "I don't know what happened after that. By the time the fighting started, we were kilometers away. We didn't even know the place was burning down until an hour after it was all over, because we ditched our omni-tools in a sewer drain – looking back, we should've left them at the estate.

"So, a few days and a few mass relay hops later, we were on Omega with new identities and nothing but the clothes on our backs. We split up, but kept in touch, trying to keep low profile. I joined a merc group, and for five years, everything was smooth sailing. I was even thinking about getting back in touch with my family, but I was keeping an eye on the news from back home, and noticed that the delivery driver had recently died in an "accident." Then I checked in with the rest of the gang, and well, one of us didn't answer."

Treia squinted in confusion. "Why come after you five years later?"

"Because the estate burning down _really_ hurt the family's caste standing, and even though they bribed enough people to bury the investigation, it seems like enough people found out about what the shitbag was doing there that the locals avoided doing business with them." Pazness shrugged. "I didn't really check into it too much. I was busy figuring out how to disappear, and well, being on a deep space exploration ship was a good way to do it."

"So this wound up working out really well for you," Rala observed, taking a long sip of her drink.

Pazness shrugged. "I guess. Doesn't stop me from feeling bad when other people get miserable about the family topic."

"I think the big takeaway is Pazness here has a big soft spot for kids." Treia had a big, shit eating grin on her face. "Before you know it, the kids here are going to be calling you "Uncle Pazzy" and begging you to read them bedtime stories."

Rala buried her face in her hands to stifle her snickering.

The Batarian's mouth compressed into a thin, scowling line. "Great. I can't wait."

* * *

Like a blazing comet, Gundam Barbatos hurtled through space in the belly of a Kutan III.

Built by Euro Electronics, the heavy industry subsidiary of Teiwaz, the Kutan III was designed to move cargo and mobile suits through the solar system as quickly as possible. An absurd thrust to mass ratio, along with advanced chemical propellant formulas for the boosters, allowed it to outrun ships and get to destinations in hours, rather than days or weeks. But the Kutan III's speed came at a cost – unless its destination was well within half of its maximum range, any trip on a Kutan III was a one way ticket.

Cocooned inside the cockpit of Barbatos, Mikazuki Augus slept, unconcerned by the mechanical realities of the Kutan III. As long as it got him where he needed to be and did what he needed it to do, he was fine. He already knew what Barbatos, still whispering in his mind, could do. There was little to worry about in the emptiness of space. Things would change when they arrived at the _Isaribi_.

In his deep slumber, Mikazuki dreamed. The dream was not of any one person or place – Sakura Pretzel's farm on Mars, Tekkadan's base, the _Isaribi_ , even the alley where Orga had given him his new life, all inhabited by various people he knew and cared about – but on a subconscious level, he understood it was a glimpse of the place where he belonged. That was as far as his understanding went – he simply lacked the knowledge necessary to interpret it further.

 _"Hey, Mikazuki, it's time to wake up. We're a half hour out from the_ Isaribi. _"_

Instantly, he was awake, a reflex trained into him by years of harsh life on the streets of Chryse and in CGS.

"I'm awake, old man." It was just Mr. Yukinojo, who was riding in the Kutan III's cockpit. They'd agreed to take alternating shifts of staying awake to keep watch and sleeping, just in case anything went wrong. Nothing did, so the trip was very boring.

 _"Good. Mind putting the forward sensors to search mode?"_

Mikazuki worked Barbatos' controls, set up to handle operating the Kutan III. The booster unit's most powerful sensors, used in search and rescue missions, came to life. On the screen in front of him, two dots appeared at the very edge of sensor range.

 **Two contacts. Type: Capital Ship. ID: NOA-0093 Isaribi. TIR-0009 Hammerhead. Classification: Friendly.**

Mikazuki ignored Barbatos' mutterings and read the names on the screen. It was hard, mostly because he'd only started learning how to read in the last few months. Sometimes the letters were backwards, and he didn't know why that was, but it made things more difficult.

Finally, he said, "It's the Isaribi and Hammerhead."

 _"Great. Want to check in?"_

Mikazuki thought about it.

 **Signal traversal time: 15 minutes. Time to intercept: 28 minutes and counting.**

"No, we'll do it when we're closer."

 _"Alright, if you say so. Might as well do system checks if you're up, right?"_

"Right."

Twenty minutes later, all the checks were done. Everything was working, although the new gun wasn't properly set up, but that was nothing new. The workers on Saisei hadn't been able to put together anything more than a basic heat gauge and reticule for it, so no one knew how well it would work. Because of that, it was mounted on the left arm as a backup weapon, while a large cannon was on the back to handle ranged threats.

 _I should have asked Kudelia for some writing homework,_ Mikazuki thought. While it was boring and a bit hard sometimes, it was less boring than sitting in the cockpit and doing nothing. Whenever he had the choice, he preferred to do something over doing nothing.

 _"Hey, Mikazuki."_

"What is it, old man?"

 _"You ready for this?"_

Mikazuki's face scrunched in confusion. "For what?"

 _"Meeting the aliens. It's going to be like nothing we've ever done."_

The boy shrugged, even if Yukinojo couldn't see him. "They're just people, right? Why should it be any different than normal?"

Yukinojo burst out laughing over the radio. _"You've got a good point there."_

Mikazuki nodded to himself and checked the sensor display. The ships were in the middle, so he shut off the search sensors. They immediately jumped back to the edge, but that was fine. All they had to do was rendezvous.

A new dot appeared on the screen, and Barbatos muttered in his mind again.

"Looks like Akihiro's out on patrol." The new contact was Tekkadan's captured Graze.

 _"Sounds like everything's normal over there."_

"Yeah, I guess."

The Graze pulled closer and closer to the edge, even as the Kutan III got closer and closer to the _Isaribi_.

Several minutes passed, then three new blips showed up on the display, close to the Graze.

 **Three new contacts. Type: Mobile suits. ID: Unknown. Classification: Unknown.**

Mikazuki frowned, and pushed the throttle to the limit, then began tucking in the neck seal of his space suit. "Akihiro's in trouble."

 _"Are you sure?"_

He didn't reply, instead changing course so the Kutan III would fly right by the _Isaribi_. Barbatos blazed past the ship, almost close enough to scratch the paint. A low fuel alarm began blaring, but Mikazuki didn't care.

"Old man, I'm going in."

The large boosters and their integral fuel tanks dropped off with a _thunk_.

 _"Huh? What'd you say?!"_

"I'm going to hand the controls back to you now."

 _"Wait a minute! I don't know how to pilot this thing!"_

It was too late – Barbatos was already in the process of emerging from the Kutan III. Armored panels lowered, raised, or swept to the sides, and sparing a second to grab the long sword attached to the arm fin to the right, Mikazuki and his Gundam set off into the battle. Speeding up, above the melee, he lowered the point of the sword, opened the throttles of Barbatos' thrusters, and dove toward the mobile suit preparing to crush the Graze's cockpit.

The blade slammed into green, turtle-like mobile suit's cockpit, an impact that reverberated through the ancient Gundam's venerable frame. Mikazuki let out his breath; he hadn't been sure he could make the kill in time. Then one of the other two mobile suits charged towards Barbatos, firing a rifle of some kind. He pulled the defeated mobile suit in between him and his attacker, then had Barbatos kick it into it, before flying above the new threat.

He was on Akihiro's tail now, with both mobile suits speeding back towards the _Isaribi_. "Akihiro, are you alright?"

Akihiro's face appeared on the large display panel to Mikazuki's left. _"I'm alright."_

 _"Mikazuki!"_ An audio only icon appeared, with the name "Takaki Uno" under it.

"What are you doing out here?" Takaki was supposed to be keeping an eye on the younger kids, not doing patrols. Mikazuki looked a bit more carefully at the Graze; a blue mobile worker was tied to it, right above the thruster on the back.

 _"I went out on patrol with Akihiro."_ That didn't really explain anything, but Mikazuki figured he'd get an actual explanation later.

 _"You saved us,"_ Akihiro said. _"Thank you."_

A new voice cut in. _"Mika, Akihiro, fall back to the_ Isaribi _on a zig-zag course. We'll try to keep the last two off your backs. Don't worry about Mr. Yukinojo, we'll pick him up!"_

Orga.

Mikazuki and Akihiro followed their orders; they could see the far off flashes of the _Isaribi_ 's main guns firing as they zagged, as well as a nearby patch of asteroids. Yukinojo's calls for help filled the cockpit, but since he was moving away from the enemy, Mikazuki felt he was alright. The large shells from the _Isaribi_ began passing by right as the enemy mobile suits began firing their rifles.

 _"Stay away from those asteroids! We won't be able to cover you in there!"_

Mikazuki nodded to himself. "Akihiro, follow my lead."

 _"Rodger."_

Mikazuki pulled Barbatos into a hard 90 degree turn away from the asteroids, dialing back the throttle a bit to allow Akihiro's Graze to pull ahead of him. A few rounds from the _Isaribi_ nearly hit them; several slammed into the asteroids, obliterating the smaller ones. Mikazuki frowned as he spotted glimpses of movement among the dust and debris, pulling out the large, conventional cannon on Barbatos' back.

Three more mobile suits emerged; they all shared the same general shape of the first three, but one had a huge rectangular object on its back, and two had a lighter paint scheme. Mikazuki took a quick look at the display, trying to figure out where everyone was. Akihiro was in front of him; between their turn and the _Isaribi_ cruising and turning towards them, it wouldn't be long before they reached safety. But now there were five mobile suits on their tail.

A new blip appeared on the screen. **New contact. Type: Mobile Suit. ID: STH-14s Hyakuri. Classification: Friendly.** That was Lafter's mobile suit, a fast recon unit with decent weapons and armor. It'd catch up to Barbatos and the Graze in thirty seconds—

 _"Where the hell do you think you're going?!"_ That was one of the enemy, probably their leader. Mikazuki thought he sounded a bit odd, but he couldn't care less about why. No, what was important was buying Akihiro and Takaki more time to get away.

He switched the sword to Barbatos' left hand and turned to face the enemy. He managed to score some hits on the closer pair of mobile suits with the cannon, the ones that jumped Akihiro, but none of them did anything. He tried shooting the ones further back, and even when they did hit, they bounced off.

"Man – all of these suits are sure covered in some tough armor." That left only one option. Carefully making sure the hand and the sword were clear of the alien gun's barrel, he aimed the unproven weapon at the center of what he thought was the enemy leader's suit. Enemy rifle fire pinged off Barbatos, but he made sure his aim was true, and pulled the trigger.

The hypersonic sledgehammer round exited the barrel milliseconds before the recoil nearly sent Barbatos into a spin, missed one of the first two mobile suits by mere centimeters, and slammed into target's right shoulder, high and to the left of its intended destination.

Immediately, the enemy mobile suits slowed their pursuit, enough that several rounds from the _Isaribi_ nearly connected. Mikazuki brought Barbatos back under control and followed that up with some conventional cannon fire, all the while keeping an eye on the heat gauge. It _was_ dropping, but not fast enough for his liking, and it was hard to tell when he could fire again without overheating it.

 _"How_ dare _you damage my Gusion! I'll have your head for that!_ No one _beats Kudal Cadel!"_ So that was the enemy leader's name. Most of the time, Mikazuki had no idea who he was fighting until after it was over. Usually they'd be dead by then.

Gusion began jinking aggressively, closing the distance to Barbatos. His wingmen closed in too, then fell back as they were peppered with cannon fire. A blue mobile suit – **New contact. Type: Mobile Suit. ID: STH-05 Hyakuren. Classification: Friendly –** charged towards the first set of mobile suits, and Lafter's Hyakuri danced around Kadel's wingmen.

 _"Don't worry guys, the cavalry is here."_ That was Azee, in the Hyakuren. _It must have ridden on the Hyakuri's back_ , Mikazuki thought.

 _"Now's your chance to get back to the_ Isaribi _,"_ Lafter added.

 _"Thanks!"_ Akihiro and Takaki replied, pulling off towards the growing silhouette of Tekkadan's assault carrier.

Mikazuki nodded and returned his focus to the approaching Gusion. Even though a quick look at the heat gauge said that he could safely fire the alien cannon, he wasn't about to fire while the enemy was dodging like crazy. Instead, he stowed the conventional cannon and switched the sword to Barbatos' right hand, saving the alien cannon for a close range shot.

As he pulled closer, the rectangle on Gusion's back turned out to be the head of huge hammer, one that Mikazuki instinctively knew would do a great deal of damage to whatever it hit. Still, he allowed Gusion to get close, dodging the wild swings of the hammer while trying to get a killing blow in. It didn't work **–** Barbatos' sword just bounced off the Gusion's armor.

"This is hard to use," he grumbled. Still, he was in the right spot to fire…

 _"Look out Mikazuki!"_ Azee shouted; one of the two mobile suits she'd been fighting broke away and made a beeline for Barbatos.

For any other pilot in any other mobile suit, that would've been the time to fire. But instead, he waited until the last possible second, lined Barbatos' left arm up like it was about to punch Gusion in the gut, and fired. Barbatos spun out of the way, allowing the other mobile suit's momentum to smash it into the Gusion, its blade cutting into the thick armor. Firing his thrusters, Mikazuki regained control in time to see Lafter go in for a killing blow on one of the other mobile suits… then pull away at the last second.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Gusion launched a blue and a red flare from its head Vulcan cannons, and all five surviving enemy mobile suits retreated.

Mikazuki opened a channel to both of Turbine pilots, who appeared on opposite sides of his cockpit display. "Hey, thanks guys. I rushed out here, so I was running kinda short on propellants. Did Akihiro make it back to the _Isaribi_?"

 _"He did,"_ Azee answered, frowning. _"Lafter, what the hell was that back there?"_

That was when he noticed how shaken Lafter was. _"Uh… guys? I might be crazy, but I might've almost killed Akihiro's brother."_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**  
Hey, McGillis and Gaelio managed to finally appear in the story proper! And naturally, it must end with Gaelio being embarrassed, because being Gaelio is suffering. It becomes next level trolling when you imagine what that bit would look like animated, aka Gaelio x McGillis ship scene #123, only for it to be utterly sandbagged like that. That said, I couldn't help but mention That Idiot, mostly because A) it's impossible for them to **not** know about him, and B) given how Gaelio and McGillis were, it's hard to see them **not** holding him in contempt to some degree.

Thought it might be interesting to explore a different Batarian POV, especially since Pazness is going to be playing a bigger role soon, plus it fleshes out the Batarian Hegemony a little bit. And hey, I got to incorporate a reference to Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens while setting up the new status quo on the Isaribi, so it's all good.

Finally got to a fight scene too! IBO's style is kind of hard to translate into prose, at least when you're sticking to some of the points of canon. Fun fact: I almost left out the APC cannon because I thought there were **three** fights with the Brewers, but I checked Wikipedia's episode summaries and realized there were only **two** , so I included it here. The ending is one of those horrible moments of inspiration we writers get, the kind that makes things interesting in a not-fun-for-the-characters way, especially considering certain developments in IBO season 2. I like it. It has weight.

Also, yeah, Mikazuki has dyslexia. They only show it once in the episode where Kudelia starts teaching kids how to read and write, but it's canon.


	15. Chapter 13

Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Sunrise/Bandai. EA/Bioware own Mass Effect.

* * *

Chapter 13

Mikazuki guided Barbatos into the _Isaribi_ 's hangar with ease, taking care not to collide with the Kutan III in front him. As soon as the massive hatch closed and the bay pressurized, a swarm of people entered the room, splitting into small groups that attended to the recently recovered vehicles and mobile suits. As Mikazuki disconnected himself from the Alaya-Vijnana system, someone banged their fists against the cockpit hatch. He flipped the control switch, allowing the heavy armor panel on the top of Barbatos' chest to slide forward, while the hatch itself flipped up and his chair rose up into the gap.

He found himself staring a blue woman with weird things on her head where her hair was supposed to be, and blinked a few times.

"Whoa, didn't expect that to work that way." She held out her hand, which was covered by a dirty glove. "Treia T'Pani, formerly assistant chief engineer on the AIV _Thrill Seeker_."

He took her hand, shook it, and used the motion to lift himself into the air. "Mikazuki Augus."

"Yeah, I've heard about you and this bad boy here," she replied, patting the armored plate. "You know, you're a lot smaller than I thought you'd be."

"Really?" Mikazuki wasn't _that_ surprised, only because that had happened a few times before.

"Yeah, the guys around here've been going on about how awesome you are, so I figured you'd be this big bad ass, sort of like Akihiro."

That reminded him of what Lafter had revealed to him, and he began looking around. He didn't see Akihiro anywhere, but he did spot Yamagi and a person with a weird, bug like head moving towards the Kutan III. "Yamagi!"

Yamagi looked over, pushed off the Graze, and came to a rest by Barbatos' face. "Hey, Mikazuki, what's up?"

"Where's Akihiro? And who's that?" Mikazuki tilted his head towards the Kutan III.

"That's Dr. Vass – he's one of the new crew members." Yamagi took a quick look around. "I think Akihiro and Takaki went off to the locker room as soon as they got back. I could as—"

The intercom blared as Fumitan announced, _"Mikazuki, Akihiro, report to the bridge immediately."_

"I guess that answers that question," Yamagi muttered. "Anything you need us to do?"

Mikazuki gave him a quick nod. "The recoil from that new gun is too strong. And the heat gauge is too hard to understand."

"Don't worry, me and my boy Hish should have that sorted out before your next sortie," Treia confidently asserted; all Mikazuki could do was nod and head off to bridge.

He caught up with Akihiro quickly; it wasn't hard – there was one main route to the bridge from the hangar. The hard part was figuring out how to ask him about whether or not he had a brother. Mikazuki wasn't all that good at conversation, and he had a feeling this wasn't a good time to bring it up. They entered the elevator in silence, which continued as it went into motion.

Akihiro broke the silence. "Never got the chance to thank you for saving me and Takaki's butts out there."

"Don't worry about it."

The pair lapsed into companionable silence again, broken only by the elevator stopping and letting them out on the bridge. As they stepped out, Akihiro introduced Mikazuki to the new alien crew members in the group huddle. Pazness seemed alright, but Raeka reminded him a bit too much of Todo Mirconen, who tried to sell them out to Gjallarhorn; that was when they beat him up and stuffed him into an escape pod they ejected in Mars orbit.

"How're you doing, Mika?" Orga asked, trying to forestall an argument that the Salarian would probably lose.

Mikazuki shrugged. "Alright, I guess. That new gun you got me needs some work."

"I know, that's why I sent the _Isaribi_ in to support you." Orga frowned. "Naze tells me Azee's already trying to figure out what kind of mobile suits you were fighting out there. You guys got anything useful to add?"

"Their armor's pretty thick," Akihiro replied. "I don't think anything but that alien gun did anything to them."

"If your mobile suit guns are just scaled up versions of your small arms, I'm not surprised by that," Pazness interjected. "Mass effect based guns like that Maratist cannon fire rounds that are _way_ faster than your regular old guns."

Eugene frowned. "What the hell does "Maratist" mean?"

"It's the name of a Turian spirit of destruction. They have a weird habit of naming weapons after their religious figures," Raeka explained, not even bothering to hide his irritation. "We have a bunch of Phaeston assault rifles back on the _Thrill Seeker_ , which are named after a Turian spirit of creation."

"It's more of a light machine gun, honestly."

"Same difference."

"Lafter said she thinks one of the enemy pilots might be Akihiro's brother." All conversation on the bridge ground to a halt after Mikazuki's matter of fact proclamation.

"What the hell makes her think that?" Orga asked, keeping his eyes on Akihiro. The other man seemed frozen in place, which raised the odds of being true, even this was the first time any of them had heard about this.

"She says she overheard comm chatter between the two mobile suits when she was fighting them." Mikazuki turned to Akihiro. "Lafter said his name was Masahiro."

A pained expression crossed Akihiro's face, and his fists clenched as he ground out a reply. "Yeah… that's my brother's name."

"So… I guess there's a story here, because I don't get why your brother would be working for the enemy," Pazness admitted, a sentiment shared by pretty much everyone else.

It took Akihiro a few moments to start, but once he began, it didn't take long for him to get the whole tale finished. As everyone mulled it over, Mikazuki could see the wheels turning in Orga's eyes, trying to figure out how to get Masahiro away from those pirates. He nodded, confident that Orga would find a way to do it.

Orga caught the motion in the corner of his eye, and smirked. "Well, this just made everything a hell of a lot more complicated. But we can handle this – right, Mika?"

He nodded again, and while the aliens seemed baffled, the rest of the Tekkadan veterans smiled. It was time to show them what Tekkadan was made of… and what being one of them meant.

* * *

The Brewers' space fleet was small by Gjallarhorn and Teiwaz standards, and not far from the size of the average pirate and mercenary fleet. Two assault ships and two transports were all they had, but that was all they really needed. They made a living plundering ships traveling between Earth and Mars, but occasionally ventured out to the asteroid belt for profit and salvaging mobile suits from the Shoal Zone. Their current course took them deeper into the dense patch of asteroids and debris, formed by the sheer amount of gravity fields left by still operational Ahab reactors inside ruined ships and mobile suits.

In the hangar of the Brewers flagship, mechanics pulled ruined armor plates off the Gusion, even as Kudal Cadel ranted and beat on the Human Debris pilots that made up most of the Brewer's fighting force. The mechanics were inured to it after years of such behavior; whenever something bad happened, Cadel took it out on slave soldiers, even if it wasn't their fault.

"Kudal!" the chief mechanic shouted. "Get your ass up here!"

Cadel gave one of the boys a final shove, then floated up to where the chief was examining the Gusion's ruined shoulder armor plate. "What is it?"

"Take a look at this damage." He ran a wrench inside the massive divot in the armored plate, ringed by a border of horrifically twisted metal. "This didn't punch _through_ the armor. Whatever it was that hit you acted more like an asteroid and slammed _into_ it. You're lucky our suits have so much armor – it only went a third of the way through. I'd hate to see it hit a normally armored suit."

"Get to the point."

The chief sighed. "Look, when you beat those Tekkadan kids or whatever, just make sure you don't smash the gun that did this. It's probably some super new Teiwaz piece, and it'll make our lives a lot easier – one shot, and most mobile suits are probably out for the count."

Cadel flashed a sadistic grin. "I'll do you one better – I'll bring you their Gundam."

"And you want me to do _what_ with it?" The chief scowled. "We both know damn well you aren't going to let one of those kids pilot it, and the boss probably isn't going to shell out the cash to hire someone decent to pilot it."

Brook Kabayan, the head of the Brewers, was notoriously cheap, cutting costs wherever he could to maximize the profits off their plunder. That was why he relied on slave labor for most of his mobile suit pilots and crew, and why spare parts were in short supply practically all the time. There were at most two spare sets of armor for the Man Rodis, the mobile suits used by the Human Debris, while the Gusion had only a few pieces of spare armor, since the Brewers had custom-made the armor to go over it's Gundam frame. Luckily, the ruined plates were ones they had spares for, but this trip was going to be costly, even if they won.

Cadel shrugged. "Maybe you can just keep it in a corner somewhere, in case something happens to Gusion."

"Right, I'll just convince the boss that having a spare Gundam around is a good idea." The chief snorted in derision. "He'll sell the damn thing first chance he gets."

He would've added _And keep most of the profits for himself_ , but Kudal Cadel was totally loyal to Kabayan, while the chief was far more pragmatic. If a better deal came along, he would be receptive to it, and he knew his boss wouldn't hesitate to cut a man loose for asking for too much money. Talking badly about him often ended in a beating or death.

"Shows what you know," Cadel shot back. "We get this job done, and we'll get Gjallarhorn's support – and enough money to afford another pilot of _my_ caliber."

The chief looked skeptical. "Assuming they keep up their end of the bargain."

Cadel glared at him, and he raised his hands. "Hey, all I'm saying is that for all we know, we'll be their guys for like five minutes, then they'll dump us like trash when the next up-and-coming group comes along."

"Then we'll just have to show them we're irreplaceable!" With that, Cadel jumped off Gusion and headed off into the upper reaches of the ship.

"Yeah, sure, we're totally gonna do that with jokers like you around," the chief muttered under his breath. He shook his head, then spotted his assistant. "Hey, where the hell's the replacement armor for Gusion? We need to get this thing back up to spec before the next sortie!"

With that, all his misgivings melted away as he dove headlong into his work.

* * *

Only a few hours after he boarded the _Isaribi_ , Mikazuki had bounced around practically every part of the ship, getting introduced to the new crew members. It was too much, too fast – many of their names and faces were blurring together along species lines. Back in the CGS days, there'd only be a half-dozen or so new faces anytime they got new troops, so it was easier to learn and memorize names and faces.

Now he was down in sickbay, lying face down on an examination bed, as Dr. Vass waved his omni-tool over his back and spine.

While most of the aliens seemed to be alright, Vass was… _different_. As far as people Mikazuki had met, he seemed most like the Chocolate Man, seeing things others would miss, although Mikazuki didn't know if Vass was any good at fighting. Whether or not he was to be trusted was something that bothered Mikazuki – Orga _seemed_ to trust him, but some part of his mind urged him against following in Orga's footsteps.

Troubled by this, Mikazuki decided to focus his attention on the mess of parts atop a cart Vass was using. Many of them looked familiar; in fact, they seemed to be from the Alaya-Vijnana interfaces.

"What are you doing with those?"

Vass looked up and spotted the cart. Turning his attention back to the scan, he said, "I've been examining them, trying to figure out the best way to record the kind of information I need."

Mikazuki frowned. "What kind of information?"

"Data input and output, throughput, bandwidth, brain usage, that sort of thing. Like these scans I'm doing, I need that information to fully comprehend how the Alaya-Vijnana system works." The scanner beeped and Vass nodded, satisfied. "You can sit up now."

He did, but that answer didn't satisfy his curiosity. "Why?"

The alien seemed to divine the meaning between the vague question. "Not only is the technology fascinating on its own merits, but it provides a… challenge worthy of my skills." Vass let his hands wander a bit. "Figuring out how to prevent you all from suffering brain damage, while still gaining the maximum benefit of the implants you do have is quite a conundrum. But given my… extensive experience, I believe that I should be able to surmount the hurtles before me."

Mikazuki narrowed his eyes, and Vass noticed the skepticism that conveyed.

"There is also the fact that Orga saved my life. My shipmates could not handle the concept of sacrificing their immediate futures for the sake of a newly discovered species." Vass locked eyes with Mikazuki. "If it weren't for his intervention, we wouldn't be having this conversation. And I'm sure I don't have to remind you that loyalty must be earned and maintained."

He nodded. "So, you're doing this to prove your loyal?"

"Along with the other reasons I mentioned," Vass confirmed. "Besides, you're all children. It would be a waste of potential if you all died at a young age from preventable brain damage. Surely you have some goals for your life."

"I want to be a farmer."

Something like sadness flickered in Vass' eyes. "A simple, _achievable_ goal. You should be glad, Mikazuki – you have something many people lack in their lives."

He cocked his head in confusion. "They do?"

"There is a saying from a Salarian philosopher – superior abilities breed superior ambition." Vass shook his head. "A great many people have found themselves doomed to failure because they believed they were better than everyone else… and could not handle their own inability to achieve the heights they yearned for."

That idea turned over a few times in Mikazuki's head before a sudden realization crystallized. "Are you talking about Orga?"

"He is certainly someone who could fall into that trap," Vass admitted. "Especially since his natural charisma is not balanced by enough restraint… at least, not yet. Perhaps that may change, especially if more of you are willing to question his decisions."

Mikazuki's face scrunched in confusion. "I don't get it."

"As another great Salarian philosopher once said – question everything." Vass yawned. "A good leader is made better by having many people he or she trusts asking hard questions about every decision they make. It forces them to _think_ instead of just acting or reacting."

"You're saying Orga doesn't think?"

"More that he doesn't think _enough_ ," the Salarian clarified. "For example, that skirmish you had with the pirates. Orga used capital ship weapons against small, highly mobile targets – that easily could've killed you, Akihiro, and Takaki. Certainly, it worked, mostly because of your experience and adaptability, but that was likely an instinctual decision. And in the long run, those often get people into difficult situations that could've easily been avoided if there was a tiny bit of thought put into considering the negative consequences of a decision."

Mikazuki frowned, then hopped off the table and left the room, which Vass did not bother to stop. He found himself wandering through the ship, stopping by one of the long windows along the outer hull. Outside was nothing but stars and darkness, and he simply stared at it, trying to process what he just heard.

After a few minutes, he heard someone approach him from the right. Looking up, he said, "Hey Orga."

Orga looked a little tired, but he smiled. "What's up, Mika?"

"I was talking with Dr. Vass, and he said some stuff that got me thinking."

"Really." Orga leaned against the green rail in the middle of the window. "Why don't you fill me in?"

Mikazuki gave him the gist of the conversation, and when it was all said and done, Orga did something he didn't expect. He just chuckled, instead of getting angry, annoyed, or resentful. Mikazuki tilted his head, not quite sure what to make of it.

"You don't get it, do ya?" Orga had a bit of a smile on his face. "Well, I don't blame you – you weren't here for most of this. He likes me, but he's pushing me too, trying to get me to do better. Kinda like Naze, but not as nice."

"Huh." While Mikazuki liked Naze, it was hard to see how he and Vass were anything alike, especially since Naze was a lot like Orga.

"Don't get me wrong," Orga continued, "I think he's shifty as hell, but as long as we keep an eye on him, I think we'll be fine."

Mikazuki nodded, relieved that Orga didn't trust Vass completely. "What about those pirates?"

"Well, they called Naze, trying to get us to hand over Kudelia," Orga replied. "But we've come up with a pretty good plan for taking them on."

He stood up and motioned for Mikazuki to follow him. "Let's get going; I'll tell you all about it."

United in purpose, they set off once more to prepare for battle.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Yeah, it's one of those connecting tissue chapters. Honestly, if it wasn't for my current schedule, I could've probably pumped this out in a week. Instead, it took two. Kinda glosses over some stuff, but hey, Takaki didn't almost get turned into something that'd show up in an OHSA certification presentation, so less angst means less rehashing of stuff from episodes 11 and 12. Next chapter might just all be fight scenes, but who knows.

Also, hope you like the subtle nods to other western scifi franchises - they seemed particularly appropriate for Salarian philosophy.


	16. Chapter 14

Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Bandai/Sunrise. Mass Effect belongs to EA/Bioware.

* * *

Chapter 14

 _"Alright, that's the last one! Mikazuki, Lafter – you're ready to go."_

Mikazuki looked up from the tablet in his hands. Barbatos was once again cocooned inside the Kutan III, which floated right below the _Isaribi_ 's bow. For the past twenty minutes, Tekkadan technicians had been threading thick metal cables through any slots they could find on the booster's hull, in an effort to tie one of the alien shuttles to the human booster. A few hundred meters away, the Turbines were doing the same thing with the other shuttle and Hyakuri.

"Roger. Beginning acceleration."

The Kutan III and Hyakuri slowly ramped up their speed, not only because they had extra mass to deal with, but to avoid complications with the messy arrangement Orga's plan called for. The alien shuttles were below and behind the mobile suits, out of the direct line of thrust, but that was only one hurtle to overcome. If any sudden maneuvers were required, odds were that the shuttles would smash into their host units, the cables would break and the unpowered shuttles would smash into each other, or any number of other likely catastrophes could occur.

But if it worked, it would stack the deck in their favor.

After another fifteen minutes, the numbers lined up with Mikazuki had been shown earlier, so he began increasing speed. "Beginning second acceleration."

Fumitan acknowledge, and Mikazuki went back to his homework.

The slow approach towards the shoal zone was occasionally punctuated by brief snippets of conversation between the mobile suit pilots and/or the shuttle crews. Despite his increasing interactions with the aliens, Mikazuki didn't feel comfortable relying on them in battle. Unlike Lafter, Ride, or Takkaki, the latter of whom were aboard the shuttles to coordinate things, he had no idea what their skill level was. It was entirely possible that he'd have to spend more time protecting them than fighting the enemy, which would drag out the fighting and increase the chances of Tekkadan members dying. And since they were trying to rescue Akihiro's brother, dragging out the fight also meant a higher chance of him dying.

Still, he'd give them a chance to prove themselves. He just hoped they wouldn't get in the way.

At last, the quartet came within visual range of the dense patch of asteroids. The Kutan III and Hyakuri slowly eased off to sides of their flight paths, the lines connecting them to the shuttles blowing apart in a brief flare of detcord. The shuttles hurtled towards the field, powered nothing but momentum, using only their thrusters to dodge the asteroids in their paths. Mikazuki frowned at that as the two mobile suits returned to their original path and accelerated, taking them into the debris.

Inside the shoal zone, naturally irregular asteroids mixed with chunks of rock with suspiciously unnatural straight and curved lines. Intermingled with that were chunks of metal, ice, and an entire field of particulate matter that stretched as far as the eye could see. Even mobile suit sensors were of little use – there was too much matter blocking Ahab waves out there for long range detection to be an option. The eye was the only reliable sensor… but it could only see so much.

 _"Okay, we should be getting closer to the point,"_ Lafter said, referring to the Brewers' location. As Orga had explained back on the _Isaribi_ , everyone was fairly certain the pirates knew Tekkadan's flight path. This area was a natural place to stage an ambush, which was why the mobile suits and shuttles were sent out ahead of the ships. Ideally, the shuttles would remain undetected until they were needed in the actual battle, while the mobile suits would draw the enemy forces into an ambush of Tekkadan's own design.

"I can't see anything," Mikazuki replied, peering at the mishmash all around them. Odds were that the enemy would get the jump on them, which was fine, but they needed the enemy's main mobile suit, Gusion, to come after Barbatos specifically.

 _"Stay sharp. They could find us at any time now."_

"I know."

A minute or two later, enemy mobile suits began appearing on their sensors.

"They're here. Ready, Lafter?"

 _"You know it!"_

The enemy mobile suits – Rodi frames, according to Azee – charged in, guns blazing. The Kutan III and Hyakuri dodged around an unfortunate asteroid that took the brunt of the attack, leading the three pursuing Rodis in two separate directions. Both _looked_ like courses a mobile suit retreating to its mothership would take, but Mikazuki's would also close the distance to where the shuttles were _supposed_ to be.

As the Kutan barely avoided clipping an asteroid, Lafter's voice cut in over the comm system. _"It's so cramped out here, I can barely maneuver!"_

"Yeah, no kidding." Mikazuki's eyes were wide open as he looked off to the side for an escape route. "My booster's so hard to handle that I can barely—"

An alert chime went off, and Mikazuki took a look at the display. "This Ahab wave reaction… is it him?"

Akihiro's brother had arrived.

Mikazuki activated a weapon system that had been installed on the Kutan III in case this ever happened. Pulling the booster into a vertical roll, he doubled back and dove toward the Rodi, peppering it with dozens of phosphorescent pink paintballs. Large, pink smears covered the torso of the machine, which jinked off to the side after the assault. Before the Kutan could make another pass, gunfire from the first Rodi on his tail forced him to break off, and another salvo forced Mikazuki to eject the long range boosters before they exploded.

Before Mikazuki could ditch the booster, a pair of rounds sailed past the Kutan III and slammed into the Rodi on his tail. The enemy mobile suit veered off, allowing Mikazuki to bring the booster around for another pass on Masahiro's Rodi, smearing the bright pink paint on its back. He took a quick look around for whoever fired that shot as he ditched the paintball gun, but couldn't spot a shuttle anywhere.

 _"Hey kid, looks like we made it in time!"_

Mikazuki frowned. "Rala? Where's the other shuttle?"

 _"Don't worry about them, they're probably helping Lafter out. We'll keep them off your back, okay?"_

"Alright." Mikazuki brought the Kutan III around again and sped towards Lafter's Hyakuri. At this point, the _Isaribi_ and _Hammerhead_ were supposed to show up at any moment—

The Ahab wave chime went off again – the ships were here, closing in on the enemy ships from above. "Orga!"

Barely dodging enemy fire, the Kutan III sped towards where the capital ships were intersecting, just in time to see the _Hammerhead_ slam into the port side of the Brewers' second assault carrier. The _Isaribi_ launched its rocket anchors into the Brewers' flagship, slamming into it just aft of where the bridge would be. Even though he couldn't see it, a swarm of mobile workers were forcing their way aboard the enemy warship, trying to get to the captain and force him to surrender.

What concerned Mikazuki, even as he dodged another salvo of gun fire, was the fact that the Gusion hadn't shown up yet.

A new Ahab wave showed up and that worry evaporated. Instead, he spun the Kutan III around and sped back the way he came. As he hoped and Orga planned, Gusion followed him into the shoals. What wasn't planned was an extra five mobile suits showing up, all heading for the _Isaribi_. Mikazuki ditched the Kutan, its autopilot sending it to a safe location for pickup, then turned towards Gusion.

This time, when he fired the Maratist cannon, Barbatos kept flying straight and true, and the round hit close to the mark, splaying metal a few centimeters below the cockpit hatch. Half the new heat gauge, a rectangle made of four squares, turned red; Treia had explained to him that as long as he kept one square clear, he could keep firing. Mikazuki rather liked this system; it was easy to understand.

Before Gusion could retaliate, _two_ salvos slammed into it from the left and right as the shuttles lit up their drives and sped onto the battlefield. Nowhere near as powerful as the Maratist, the shuttles' guns still managed to dent the thick armor of the enemy mobile suit. Even as Kudal Cadel began a stream of inarticulate screaming, the shuttles spun around for a second pass, with one of the rounds shattering the Gusion's massive hammer.

Mikazuki brought Barbatos to a halt, then sped into the fray, mace at the ready.

* * *

 _What the hell did I get myself into?_ Pazness asked himself as bullets whizzed past his head. He was one of the point men for the boarding party, one of Orga's attempts to build solidarity between humans and aliens. That wasn't bad, per se; the issue was he was fighting next to a guy who made extranet meme Maiden L'Ziera look like an exemplar of patience and restraint. Shino Norba was in command of this mission, and while he and Pazness were wearing hardsuits, all but two of the rest _weren't_ , and Orga hadn't authorized of the Asari or Salarians to come, nor the use of mass effect weapons.

There were decent reasons for that – Batarian men were indistinguishable from humans when both were wearing full helmets, and mass effect weapons were a bit too distinctive for use in the field. The armor could always be chalked up to high end Teiwaz gear, especially with a standard load bearing vest over it, and anybody talking about shields could be discounted as crazy, scared out of their mind, or making excuses for their defeat. It didn't make up for the fact that Shino was charging through the enemy ship like a wild varren, and quipping the whole time.

Pazness laid down a volley of suppressive fire towards the Brewer defenders, while Shino casually tossed a grenade past the barricade they were hiding behind. The Batarian barely had time to get behind cover before it detonated, unleashing a spherical wave of destruction in the zero-g environment aboard the ship. Drops of blood trickled into the air and drifted lazily on the air currents, occasionally splattering on a wall or someone's armor.

"Shino, you dumbass, slow down!" Pazness was used to a slower, more methodical pace of mercenary operations. The Iron Vanguards, the mercs he'd worked for back in the Terminus Systems, had been formed by Turian veterans and they'd run a tight ship. The reckless ones were given three chances to shape up; if they didn't, they got the boot. He wished that a few Vanguard trainers were on hand to teach these kids some restraint, because whoever trained them sure hadn't done that.

"What, can't keep up, old man?" Shino teased as he advanced through the decimated Brewers position.

"No," he replied, keeping his voice calm and dangerous. "We keep rushing through like this, and eventually some of the guys behind us are going to get sloppy. And when that happens, someone's going to die."

Shino came to a stop at the next bulkhead, and even through the helmet and its two glowing visors, Pazness could tell that the words were having an impact. "So, what do you think we should do?"

"We've obviously got to keep pushing forward," Pazness replied as he ducked into cover across from Shino. "But we need to slow down and take things seriously. This is _not_ a game."

That only got a curt nod from the young human, but he slowed down the pace and cut most of the quipping, which was a massive improvement. It wasn't enough; as Pazness and Shino found themselves walking into another Brewers strong-point, one overly enthusiastic solider accidentally flung himself into the enemy's line of fire. The spacesuits the majority of the humans wore were armored only against run of the mill pistol rounds. Rifle rounds cut through them like butter, and the teen's body was riddled with so many bullets that he bled out within minutes.

"Goddamn it!" Shino roared, popping out his cover to lay down a blistering hail of fire. The handful of enemy soldiers were quickly torn apart as Pazness and the rest of the squad added their rifles to the onslaught. Spent shell casings, empty magazines, and blood quickly mingled in the weightless hell they found themselves in.

The Batarian put a hand on the human's shoulder. "There was nothing you could do. He caught a bad break – it could happen to any of us."

Shino pulled away, and Pazness added, "If we speed up again, he won't be the last."

The fighting intensified as they approached the bridge, but the slow, methodical pace of the Tekkadan soldiers eventually won in the end. There were still casualties, but only one or two every so often, when Brewers reinforcements managed to outflank them or lure them into ambushes. Ammunition was running thin, forcing Pazness to employ his armor's ballistic blades on more than one occasion. The explosive blades shredded the Brewers foot soldiers, adding more carnage to an already bloody battle.

Eventually, they found themselves clearing rooms on the way to the bridge, some empty, some full of supplies… and some with a handful with malnourished children in them. After the first room, Shino left his faceplate up and tried to convince them of their safety, but at Pazness' insistence, they were locked back in until the battle was over.

"Look, you don't gotta like it," he explained to the increasingly frustrated human, "but at worst, we're keeping them from wandering out into a crossfire. Besides, all it takes is one of them pulling out a gun to make things even worse."

At last, they made it to the bridge, mowing down a solid dozen soldiers in the process. Floating above the captain's chair was, as Naze had described him, the "pig-like" Brewers leader. The two helmsmen were the only ones on the bridge willing to try something, but they quickly threw aside their guns upon realizing how ridiculously outmatched they were. Shino pulled his faceplate up and grabbed Brook Kabayan by the neck.

"Surrender," he growled.

Kaybayan's skin was covered with a thick sheen of sweat that slowly beaded off him in the zero-g environment. His eyes darted to the windows, almost as if he were hoping for a miracle victory by his mobile suit forces. Fate did not deign to oblige him.

* * *

Mikazuki dodged yet another salvo of Gusion's chest cannons, which tore apart the chunk of debris behind him, even as the shuttles danced around asteroids to avoid the rounds and their collateral damage. One of the previous salvos had winged one of the shuttles, but bounced off its kinetic barriers, allowing them to keep pummeling the heavily armored mobile suit. Much of the armor on the front and sides was heavily pitted, with a few Maratist cannon hits here and there breaking up the Gusion's smooth lines.

A few Rodis, their pilots smashed to death by Barbatos' mace, floated lifelessly in the trail of destruction left by the battle between the two Gundams, a testament to Kudal Cadel's desperation. He'd even taken one of the hand choppers off a downed Rodi and tried to toss it at Barbatos, only for it to be batted aside and open him up for another shot to his cockpit armor. Now Mikazuki was looking for an opportunity to end this battle, either with the cannon or the mace.

He also felt a bit odd, and he wasn't sure why. For some reason, he wasn't tired or frustrated with how long this fight was taking. Sure, Kudal Cadel's shouting was annoying, but that wasn't too bad either.

Another salvo from the shuttles rocked Gusion as it sped through the shoal zone, opening it up for a brutal swing from Barbatos' mace. The Brewers mobile suit slammed through a curved piece of concrete, fired its thrusters to reverse course, and charged Barbatos. A swift kick sent Gusion flying into another bombardment by the shuttles.

 _"What is up with this freak?!"_ Cadel ranted over an open comm channel.

Mikazuki chased Gusion down, causing the shuttles to peel off, and swung the mace once more, even as Cadel brought the mobile suit's arm up to stop the blow. The heavy plates cracked and deformed, but stayed intact.

 _"Stop fooling around with me!"_ Cadel shouted as Gusion grabbed Barbatos' right wrist. _"Hey! You're enjoying this, aren't you? The killing of men!"_

Mikazuki frowned as he broke the other mobile suit's grip, kicking it away once more before boosting away.

 _"Why?! Why won't you just die?!"_ Gusion fired another salvo from its chest cannons, which Barbatos deflected with a piece of floating debris.

As the two mobile suits charged towards each other, an errant thought passed through Mikazuki's mind. _Am I really enjoying this?_ He had little time to fully consider the idea as he tossed a nearby piece of metal at Gusion.

"Well, whatever," he said as the chunk of metal whizzed past Gusion, distracting Cadel long enough for Barbatos to land on the mobile suit. He put the top of the mace into the depression on the chest armor, right in front of the cockpit. On an almost instinctual level, he somehow _knew_ this man had committed terrible deeds, and that killing him would only be a good thing. He thought about that for a second, and mentally shrugged, with what could be called a sad smile appearing on his face. "This one doesn't deserve to stay alive."

He fired the needle in the mace, and the giant metal spike punched through the already weakened armor, the _ca-chunk_ reverberating through both mobile suits. In an instant, Kudal Cadel was reduced to nothing more than a quickly freezing paste of meat, cloth, and bone.

Mikazuki reported it to the _Isaribi_ , and waited. A few seconds later, Fumitan replied. _"Acknowledged. The enemy has signaled their surrender."_

He turned Barbatos and spotted several surrender flares streaking away from the Brewers' ship and into the murky expanse. As they passed by various bits of debris in the shoal zone, the faraway flashes of light where the other mobile suits were fighting faded away. "What about Akihiro and his brother? And what should I do with the enemy mobile suit?'

There was another pause. _"They're both fine. As for the mobile suit, Orga wants you to bring it in."_

"Alright." He looked at Gusion for a few seconds, and opened a channel to the first shuttle. "Rala, mind helping me take this to the _Isaribi_?"

 _"Oh sure, give_ me _all the hard jobs, why don't you?"_

"So… that's a no."

The Asari sighed heavily, loud enough to hear over the comm link. _"It's a joke, kid. I'll be happy to help, as soon as we get some more cable. This thing doesn't have mag-locks on it, and I'm not even sure that thing has enough ferrous metals in it for the magnets to work."_

"Alright, don't go anywhere." Barbatos turned towards its mothership. "I'll be back."

 _"Sure, sure, Takkaki and I will just play cards while we wait."_

Firing the Gundam's boosters, Mikazuki set off for the _Isaribi_ , only to be followed by the other shuttle. He opened a channel to it and was met with a picture of the Salarian pilot, with what Orga had told him was a "shit eating grin" on his face. And for his part, Ride seemed to be pretty enthusiastic too. "Shouldn't you be helping them?"

 _"Hey,"_ the pilot – whose name Mikazuki couldn't immediately recall – replied, _"you didn't ask_ us _to help."_

 _"That's right, Mr. Mikazuki,"_ Ride added, looking quite proud of himself for noticing that fact.

After a few seconds thought, Mikazuki decided that they were right. He _hadn't_ said anything to them, so they didn't have to help. Then something else came to mind. "Maybe Orga will ask you to help bring in some of the other mobile suits."

With that, Mikazuki opened up the throttles and Barbatos left the groaning pair in the dust.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** You know, this chapter is really a case of working in reverse, because I knew what I wanted (Kudal Cadel getting the mace), and just had to figure out how to get there. I initially wasn't going to use the shuttles, but decided to include them because **not** using them would honestly be a waste... plus this chapter is all about the humans and aliens learning to respect each other's skills and abilities. Didn't really see a need to deviate from the plan used in canon, mostly because it was a good plan that only failed because A) Masahiro had a mental breakdown in the middle of the fight, and B) Mikazuki couldn't keep Gusion occupied and away from the battlefield reunion. Things changing because Tekkadan has more resources to draw upon, physical and otherwise, is a major theme of this story that'll pay off a bit later.


	17. Gaelio Must Suffer 3

Gundam Iron-Blooded Ophans belongs to Sunrise/Bandai. Mass Effect belongs to EA/Bioware.

* * *

Gaelio Must Suffer #3

Glaosheimr 2, one of Gjallarhorn's orbital Earth bases, was plenty familiar to Gaelio Bauduin. An absurd amount of Gjallarhorn Military Academy exercises had been performed here, and even though they'd been massive pains in the ass, they'd paid off. He knew he wouldn't be half the pilot he was if they weren't in the curriculum, but that didn't really do much to quell the negative associations with loud, in your face drill instructors.

But Gaelio was here on a totally different mission – getting his subordinate to take a break.

He tapped his foot on the deck outside the officer's barracks; it'd a massive pain in the ass to go from Glaosheimr 2 down to Vingolf and back again a day later. For whatever reason, the only shuttles going to and from both locations were scheduled to run at the most inconvenient times, so he'd had to schedule everything around this short jaunt that he shouldn't have had to do in the first place. The only good thing was that it let him duck out of a meeting with McGillis about the whole alien thing…

"Specialist Major! What are you doing here?"

Gaelio turned around to face Ein Dalton, who looked utterly clueless. "There you are, Ein! I was wondering why you didn't accompany us down to Earth, especially since I made arrangements for you on Vingolf."

The young Martian ensign shifted uncomfortably. "I… I wanted to be ready whenever Tekkadan showed up, sir."

Gaelio tried his best to look understanding, although he was more than a little tired of hearing about Lt. Crank and Ein's quest to avenge him. "I understand that, but I just got some news. Tekkadan is out by Jupiter and McGillis used some connections to get some pirates to go after them. We might not even get a shot to take them on."

Ein seemed to deflate a little.

"But the good news is that you've got a chance to get some stories you can tell your kids and grandkids," Gaelio added, trying to lift the younger man's mood.

All Ein could muster was a half-hearted shrug.

Thankfully, the trip back down to Vingolf only required hopping on a sparsely populated shuttle with Ein and his duffel bag, which supposedly had some civilian clothes in. Gaelio didn't entirely believe that, mostly because Ein, for all his virtues, didn't seem like the kind of person who had taken a vacation in a _long_ time. In fact, if Ein _did_ have civilian clothes, Gaelio suspected they were _many_ years old and probably wouldn't fit at all.

The shuttle lazily drifted down to Vingolf and touched down with little fanfare. As everyone filed off, Gaelio and Ein, who were sitting toward the back, waited until the last minute to leave. While Gaelio found this odd, he didn't think too much of it until he noticed Ein was marching like a dead man on the way to the firing squad. While he figured Ein was stiff, he didn't think the guy was _that_ stiff.

Once they stepped outside, things came into focus. Ein gazed upon the unending blue expanse that was the ocean and froze, his bag nearly falling from his nerveless hands. It took Gaelio a few seconds to realize that Ein was not awed by the sight of the ocean – he was _terrified_ by it.

He gently hooked his right arm under his pale, trembling subordinate's left arm and slowly guided him through the arrival terminal. Gaelio felt thousands of eyes fall on them, whispering amongst themselves about the odd sight, even though there was probably only a hundred or so people there. Getting into the elevator was a relief, especially since Ein had started quietly babbling about "the bottomless void," "basking sharks," and all sorts of weird stuff. The last thing Gaelio needed was a subordinate having a mental breakdown, especially when the world seemed to be getting crazier by the day.

Somehow, he managed to ease Ein into a monorail car that hurtled them a kilometer "south" of the spaceport, where the Gjallarhorn military garrison was stationed. Thankfully, for the now sweaty and anxious Gaelio, Ein had reached the point where he just was a zombie, incapable of anything more than shuffling around and obeying simple orders. On one level, he fully sympathized with his subordinate; as a child, he'd been deathly terrified of falling overboard and drowning, a fear that had died once he took the mandatory swimming classes in kindergarten. On the other hand, seeing a grown man (albeit one who grew up on basically a desert planet) react this way felt like watching a slow motion collision between two Zambonis driven by drunk monkeys. Gaelio found himself wishing he was a little boy again, so he could hide under a pile of coats, like he'd done many times in his youth, mostly when he'd done something trivially bad.

Thankfully, Ein managed to sign in at the officer's barracks with minimal prompting, allowing Gaelio to set him down on a bed like a good little boy.

"Alright Ein," Gaelio said, wiping his brow and heading out the door, "you and me are going to see the sights once I'm done with… whatever the hell I have to do tomorrow. You better be ready to have a good time."

 _And I'm going to make sure you don't see the ocean, because I'm not putting up with this again,_ he mentally added.

Ein mumbled something Gaelio interpreted as an acknowledgement, and he left the building with as much dignity as he could salvage, praying that this incident wouldn't get around _too_ far.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This takes place right after the first scene of the last chapter, which is a few days before the rest of that chapter.

It might seem a bit unfair to shit on Ein, but the guy has literally nothing going for him besides A) being the embodiment of Woolie from Super Best Friends during the Danganronpa Ultra Despair Girls LP (aka KILL CHILDREN), B) the fact he has Saitama from One Punch Man's dub voice actor (which ties into the next point), and C) he becomes a Warhammer 40K reference at the end of the first season. Him being a dude with no life and Gaelio trying (and probably failing, given what we see) to make him loosen up at least gives him some dimensions.

Also, since IBO Mars isn't that terraformed, Ein not being familiar with the ocean and freaking out seemed like a thing that could happen, especially since it seems like he's never actually been to Earth.


End file.
